THE  VETtBTCT 
OF  THE  GODS 


KOMAT?  GHOSH 


'BERKELEY 
LIBRARY 

NIVEttEirr  OF 
CALIPOANIA 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 
THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 


GIFT  OF 
HORACE  W.  CARPENTIER 


HerMrt    af  tl?* 


COPYRIGHT,  1905,  BY 
DODD,  MEAD  &  COMPANY 

COPYRIGHT,  1902,  BY 
THE  PEARSON  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

Published   February 


ver 


Brbiratrh 

no£  <o 
Sty*  "<gr*ai  King"  or  tit* 

6w£  <o 
(Srrat  King,  ICiiti^nf  SCinija,  S>nprFinr  JSulrr 


That  some  day  he  may  restore  in  his  own  person  the 

glory  of  Akbar  and  Prithiraj   and    Vik- 

rama,    and    gather    around    his 

throne  "  The  Nine  Gems 

of  Ind." 


476 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

\halayat  1 

I     IN  THE  GARDEN  or  THE  PALACE  3 

II     ON  THE  TOWER  OF  VICTORY  30 

III  THE  WELL  OF  TEN  THOUSAND  SIGHS  59 

IV  THE  AWAKENING  OF  THE  DEAD  74 
V     TONGUES  OF  FIRE  96 

VI     THE  MAGIC  SPELL  142 

VII     IN  THE  GRIP  OF  THUGS  163 

VIII     THE  TEMPLE  OF  THE  MANIK  196 

IX    THE  SERPENT'S  TOOTH  227 

X    THE  POISONED  CUP  245 

XI     THE  VERDICT  OF  PARAMESHWAR  264 

Epilogue  307 


SIlluHtrattnttfi 


FRONTISPIECE 

FACING  PAOI 

"  HE  WAS  SEEN  TO  STAND    .    .    .    AND  BAL- 
ANCE HIMSELF  WITH  DISTENDED  ARMS  "         40 

"  THE  GURU  THRUST  IT  FORWARD  FACE  TO 

FACE   WITH  THE   KING  "  86 

"  HOLDING  IT  ALOFT  BY  THE  TAIL   ...   HE 

APPROACHED  ONE  OF  THE  GUARDS*'  110 

"  NARAYAN  LAL  CAUGHT  UP  THE  SERPENT 

IN  HIS  RIGHT  HAND  BY  THE  TAIL  "  240 

"  SHE    CUT    FRANTICALLY    AT    THE    CORDS 

THAT     BOUND     NARAYAN     LAL  "  286 


Great  King  lay  sick  upon  his 
crystal  couch;  his  hand  beat  weary 
time  upon  the  silken  sheets ;  a  soft- 
handed  slave  held  a  goblet  of  cool 
sherbet;  another  a  dish  of  scented  pan;  another 
a  tray  of  delicate  sweetmeats.  And  another, 
standing  at  the  head  of  the  couch,  wafted  a 
fan  of  fragrant  kuskus  to  soothe  his  fevered 
brow. 

But  the  Great  King  was  sick  unto  death. 

A  hundred  beautiful  handmaids  had  sung  to 
him  from  behind  pin j  ra-lattice  with  esthraj, 
saringi  and  sethar.  A  hundred  lordlings  had 
come  to  him  and  upon  their  knees  had  praised 
the  virtues  of  his  four-score  ancestors,  saying 
that  he  was  the  Son  of  the  Gods.  A  hundred 
sages  had  gathered  around  him  and  quoted  the 
sacred  Vedas,  saying  that  the  Son  of  the  Gods 
was  also  the  Son  of  immortality  and  could  never 
die. 


But  the  Great  King  was  sick  unto  death. 

Then,  at  the  hour  of  night,  the  royal  physi- 
cian bethought  him  of  a  wondrous  cure.  There 
dwelt  by  the  palace-gate  a  white-haired  man — 
a  skilful  weaver  of  pearls  of  words  and  an  en- 
chanter of  the  mind.  He  sent  for  the  Story- 
teller to  beguile  the  Great  King  in  his  weary 
hours.  The  Great  King  was  sick  unto  death, 
his  heart  full  of  thoughts  of  death.  Perchance 
the  Story-teller  might  send  new  hope  into  his 
heart. 

"  Tell  me,  O  Wise  One,"  asked  the  King  from 
his  pillow,  "  the  most  wonderful  tale  thou 
knowest  of  human  peril.  The  nine  rows  of 
pearls  around  my  neck  shall  be  thy  reward." 

"  To  hear  is  to  obey,  O  Light  of  the  Uni- 
verse ! "  replied  the  Story-teller,  bowing  his 
head  even  to  the  fringe  of  the  golden  quilt. 
Then  seating  himself  upon  the  carpet,  he  began 
this  tale.  I,  the  faithful  chronicler  of  the 
Great  King,  listening  from  the  other  side  of  the 
couch,  have  written  it  here  in  such  words  as  you 
may  understand,  O  best  beloved  readers ! 


IN    THE    GARDEN    OF    THE     PALACE 

NOW,  O  Splendour  of  the  Earth, 
that  when  thy  slave  was  but  a  youth, 
there  dwelt  on  the  thrice-blessed  land 
that  lies  between  the  sacred  waters  of 
the  Jumna  and  the  Gangese,  a  king  who  had  an 
only  child,  a  daughter,  who  was  unto  him  as  the 
apple  of  his  eye. 

The  Princess  Devala  was  a  wondrous  beauty ; 
a  houri  of  paradise,  a  peri  of  Indra's  court.  At 
her  birth  the  Goddesses  Parvathi,  Sarasathi, 
and  Lakshmi  had  endowed  her  with  their  celes- 
tial gifts.  Her  eyes  were  like  black  diamonds, 
her  lips  like  red  rubies;  her  face  shone  like 
creamy  gold,  and  her  hair  like  a  raven's  wing. 

The  king  swore  by  the  ashes  of  his  fore- 
fathers that  no  prince  was  yet  born  worthy  to 
mate  with  her.  So  he  kept  her  in  her  maiden- 
hood till  past  her  seventeenth  year.  She  played 


©If*    Hrriiiri    af    ify?    <g0&0 

with  her  maids  in  the  champak  groves  and  lotus 
beds  that  surrounded  the  garden-house  of  the 
palace.  But  no  face  of  man  had  she  seen — 
save  her  father's. 

Then  the  king,  going  forth  one  evening  to 
gaze  upon  the  setting  sun,  stood  by  a  pool 
adjoining  his  daughter's  apartments.  His 
bosom  was  smooth  as  the  water  at  his  feet.  But 
suddenly  it  became  a  raging  sea.  Chancing  to 
look  upon  the  pool  somewhat  on  one  side  he  saw 
the  reflection  of  a  scene — something  that  went 
like  a  sword  to  his  heart,  something  that  dried 
up  the  blood  in  his  face. 

He  looked  up  and  saw.  There  stood  the 
Princess  Devala  at  her  unbarred  window — 
alone — unveiled.  There  was  a  smile  upon  her 
lips  and  a  love-light  in  her  eyes. 

Beneath  the  window  stood  a  young  man,  his 
face  uplifted,  his  hands  upon  his  breast.  Eyes 
calling  to  eyes,  heart  yearning  for  heart. 
Enough ! 

The  cry  of  anguish  that  broke  from  the  king 
made  the  princess  turn.  She  threw  up  her 
4 


SFlje    leriUI    0f    ilj?    (80  &  a 

hands  suddenly,  as  if  to  avert  some  impending 
doom — then  fell  back  fainting. 

The  young  man  came  and  knelt  by  the  king. 
He  thrust  out  his  neck  and  awaited  the  blow. 
But  the  king  still  played  with  the  hilt  of  his 
sword. 

"  Strike,  O  King ! "  cried  out  the  youth  in 
the  agony  of  suspense.  "  Why  dost  thou  not 
strike?" 

"  Fear  not,  O  miserable  one !  "  spoke  the  king, 
in  a  level  voice.  "  The  earth  will  soon  drink  thy 
blood !  But  it  is  not  meet  that  my  untarnished 
blade  should  spill  it." 

He  clapped  his  hands,  and  a  dozen  guards 
appeared. 

"  Draw  thy  tulwar,"  he  bade  the  foremost, 
"  and  sever  that  head." 

The  menial  swung  his  heavy  tulwar,  held  it 
aloft  a  moment — then  suddenly  dropped  the 
point  to  the  ground. 

"  I  cannot !  "  he  muttered  between  his  teeth. 
"  This  man  hath  a  charm !  " 

The  king  silently  motioned  to  the  second 
5 


Elf*    TEUrMri    nf    ttjt    <£0J>a 

guard.  But  he  likewise  could  not  strike,  crying 
out :  "  This  man  is  protected  by  a  spirit !  " 

And  so  the  third  and  the  fourth,  and  all  the 
rest  unto  the  twelfth.  Some  mystic  force  held 
their  arms — so  they  averred.  Perchance  it  was 
merely  that  they  had  recognised  the  man. 

He  was  Narayan  Lai,  the  juggler  of  the 
king ;  his  father,  the  great  Hira  Lai  of  Benares, 
had  been  the  Court  juggler  before  him.  Thus 
perchance  by  his  arts  had  he  effected  the  meet- 
ing with  the  princess,  which  no  other  man 
could ;  and  thus  also,  perhaps,  had  he  now 
infused  some  subtle  fear  into  the  hearts  of  his 
executioners. 

"  Give  me  thy  sword,"  the  king  bade  the 
nearest  guard ;  "  myself  will  deal  the  blow." 

But  the  youth  raised  his  head  and  said  to  the 
king: 

"  Strike  with  thine  own  blade,  0  King !  I 
am  of  Kshattric  blood !  " 

"  It  is  false !  Thou  art  the  son,  the  un- 
worthy son,  of  Hira  Lai,  my  bondsman." 

"The  reputed  son,  O  King!  A  Rajput 
6 


SIf?    Uerfciri    nf    tttt    <Sn&0 

father  gave  me  life !  "  He  flung  back  his  head, 
and  looked  his  master  full  in  the  face.  Even  a 
king  could  not  spill  Rajput  blood  in  ignominy. 

"  But  I  nursed  thee  at  my  bosom,  fed  thee 
with  my  smiles,  and  clothed  thee  with  my 
favours.  And  thou  are  a  traitor  most  per- 
jured. Thou  hast  brought  shame  upon  my 
beard." 

This  was  his  first  allusion  to  the  crime  of  the 
youth  that  the  by-standers  could  divine. 

"  The  full  moon  may  shine  upon  an  earth- 
worm, O  King ! " 

"  But  the  earth-worm  may  not  cry  out  to  the 
full  moon ! " 

He  was  not  an  earth-worm.  He  called  him- 
self that  to  measure  his  lot  by  that  of  the 
princess. 

"  The  Kshattrics  are  of  royal  caste,  O 
King !  "  The  words  rang  out  like  a  heron's  cry. 
They  were  full  of  a  sudden  pride  that  no  shame 
could  subdue. 

This  was  his  last  hope.  It  was  a  challenge 
upon  whose  issue  depended  more  than  life.  The 
7 


laws  of  caste  were  above  royal  caprice.  They 
were  the  hall-mark  of  fate,  the  destiny  of  the 
gods. 

The  king  stood  aghast  in  speechless  wrath, 
as  if  a  thunder-bolt  from  the  blue  had  fallen 
upon  him. 

"  Prove  it,  thou  presumptuous  dog !  Prove 
thy  Kshattric  blood !  " 

"  That  is  my  prayer." 

The  young  man  paused  awhile  to  give  time 
for  the  shot  to  rankle.  The  king  himself  had 
cried  for  proof.  His  word  was  passed.  Proof 
he  would  have. 

"  Put  me  to  the  ordeal,"  spoke  the  youth, 
arising  from  his  knees  and  standing  face  to 
face;  "  it  is  a  Rajput's  right.  If  I  die,  I  have 
lied.  If  I  escape  unscathed,  I  am  innocent  of 
thy  charge.  And  may  Parameshwar1  decide 
between  me  and  my  king." 

"  So  be  it.  Not  once,  but  six  times,  shalt  thou 
face  death  and  taste  of  its  agony.  Thy  blood 

*God  of  the  Universe.  Under  this  title  the  Hindus 
really  profess  but  one  Supreme  Being. 

8 


©Jfe    Herfciri    0f    tlje    (8060 

be  upon  thy  head.    Upon  the  Tower  of  Victory 
shalt  thou  meet  thy  fate.    I  have  spoken." 

"  And  my  reward,  if  not  once,  but  six  times, 
I  am  victor  over  death?  "  It  was  a  bold  bid 
that  only  a  doomed  man  would  have  dared  to 
make. 

"  Thy  Kshattric  blood  will  find  its  own  re- 
ward," answered  the  king,  with  a  smile  of  un- 
fathomable bitterness,  as  he  went  into  the 
palace. 

Was  this  a  tantalising  hope  to  dangle  before 
his  glazing  eyes  as  he  lay  gasping  out  his  last 
breath?  Did  the  king  mean  these  words?  He 
clutched  at  the  hope  with  a  frantic  grasp 

But  the  guards  fell  upon  him,  and  binding 
him  with  many  chains,  carried  him  within  the 
palace  walls.  Yet,  when  passing  a  dark  corri- 
dor, a  small  treble  voice  called  out  after  them — 
no  man  knew  from  where: 

"  Fear  not !  Wait— watch— hope !  " 

That  night,  as  they  sat  by  the  palace  gate, 
one  guard  asked  of  another : 

"  Brother,  whose  voice  was  that?  " 
9 


Sly?    ISrr&tri    nf    ilf*    C&0&0 

"  A  boy's,  surely,"  answered  the  other, 
knowing  nothing  of  the  prisoner's  crime. 

"  Pardon,  good  sirs,  it  was  a  woman's ! " 
whispered  a  man  as  he  passed  by  the  gate. 

They  looked  at  him  keenly.  His  head  was 
shaven,  but  for  a  tuft  at  the  crown.  His  naked 
breast  and  arms  were  scarred  with  self-inflicted 
wounds,  and  upon  his  forehead  was  painted  in 
vermilion  the  broad  trident  of  Vishnu.  Per- 
chance he  had  heard  from  the  other  guards  the 
tale  of  the  king's  wrath. 

They  recognised  him.  Seventeen  years  be- 
fore had  he  suddenly  come  amongst  them — the 
same  year  that  Hira  Lai,  of  Benares,  had 
entered  the  king's  service.  No  man  knew  who 
he  was,  who  his  father,  or  his  father's  father. 
They  called  him  Rama  Krishna,  for  he  was  a 
devotee  of  Vishnu  that  was  incarnated  as 
Krishna  and  Rama. 

He  was  wont  to  mingle  with  the  poor  and 
outcast,  and  eat  of  a  beggar's  gift.  Yet  some- 
times in  the  midst  of  a  half-spoken  word  they 
had  noted  the  voice  of  a  man  born  to  command, 
10 


®lf?    UerMrl    0f    lly*    (Softs 

and  in  his  eye  had  seen  the  piercing  gaze  before 
which  the  greatest  in  the  land  had  quailed  with 
fear.  But  now  he  was  the  devotee,  the  teacher 
of  the  people. 

He  held  a  withered  forefinger  to  his  over- 
hanging eyebrow,  and  smiled  grimly  at  the 
two. 

"  They  are  all  alike,  good  sirs.  Women  ever 
preferred  a  handsome  face  to  a  wise  head.  This 
one  will  surely  be  heard  again." 

Then  before  they  could  ask  him  to  unravel 
his  mysterious  words,  he  vanished  into  the 
dark. 

"  A  pundit  and  a  philosopher,"  spoke  the 
first  guard.  "  We  may  see  him  yet  at  the 
ordeal." 

"  Ay — unto  the  sixth !  "  answered  back  a 
deep  guttural  voice  from  the  darkness  of 
night. 

Within  curtained  walls  there  was  the  sound  of 
weeping  and  wailing  by  night,  and  the  silence 
of  the  grave  by  day.    From  within  palace  walls 
11 


all  peace  was  fled,  all  joy,  all  happiness.  Deep 
sorrow  reigned  in  the  heart  of  the  king — the 
heart  of  the  father.  For  seventeen  years  had 
he  loved  and  cherished  this  child  of  his  latter 
days ;  had  concentrated  upon  her  the  last  frenzy 
of  an  old  and  barren  and  widowed  heart.  For 
seventeen  years  had  he  dreamt  of  the  coming  of 
a  prince  worthy  to  mate  with  his  daughter  and 
perpetuate  his  ancient  race;  a  prince  that  was 
destined  to  become  a  king  among  kings,  a  hero 
among  a  galaxy  of  heroes.  .  .  .  And  in- 
stead he  had  found  his  daughter's  heart  given 
to  a  menial  at  his  door — for  verily  he  could  not 
be  a  prince — to  one  that  seemed  to  him  to  have 
violated  every  law  of  gratitude  and  of  loyalty, 
of  sanctuary  itself,  to  gain  her  heart. 

The  soul  of  the  king  was  steeped  in  the 
waters  of  bitterness.  The  heart  of  the  father 
was  bereft  of  its  only  love. 

And  within  the  inner  palace  the  soul  of  the 
princess  was  pining  with  love — with  filial  love 
that  had  been  to  her  a  lifelong  heritage  and  a 
moral  law;  was  pining  with  unrequited  love, 


because  the  answering  love  was  now  denied  her 
by  her  father. 

But  the  heart  of  the  maiden,  as  woman,  not 
as  princess — with  all  the  passion  of  womanhood, 
its  yearnings,  its  subtlest  joys — was  all  aglow 
with  another  love,  a  new-born  love;  a  love 
greater  far  than  filial  love. 

She  too  had  dreamt  dreams.  For  three  long 
years  since  the  dawn  of  her  womanhood — the 
years  that  had  seemed  to  her  the  sweetest  part 
of  her  life — she  too  had  rocked  herself  to  sleep 
each  night,  dreaming  of  a  hero  that  would  dare 
all  things  for  the  love  of  her ;  would  imperil  his 
life,  would  fight  the  world  in  arms — yea,  brave 
the  anger  of  the  gods  themselves — for  the 
love  of  her.  Thus  in  that  hour  her  heart  was 
full  of  joy.  For  she  had  found  her  hero  at 
last! 

Would  he  fulfil  her  promise — the  promise 
that  she  had  vowed  within  her  own  heart? 
Would  he  dare  these  things,  to  prove  his  love — 
or  die  in  the  strife?  (Less  than  that  she  would 
not  have;  more  than  that  was  beyond  human 
13 


ambition.)  She  doubted  not  he  would;  doubted 
not  that  if  ever  man  could  prove  his  love  for 
woman,  heaven  and  earth  notwithstanding,  her 
beloved  would.  And  thus  in  her  own  heart  she 
vowed  to  aid  him,  succour  him,  comfort  him — 
or  die  with  him. 

She  sat  by  the  palace  window  at  early  dawn 
the  next  day.  All  night  she  had  lain  awake, 
praying  for  light.  She  felt  in  her  inmost  soul 
that  her  lover  was  innocent  of  guilt.  Who  he 
was  by  the  right  of  his  birth  she  knew  not — yet 
felt  with  dumb  instinct  that  there  was  something 
within  him,  something  that  had  revealed  itself 
outwardly  in  response  to  her  love,  that  must 
needs  be  of  royal  heritage.  Was  he  but  a 
juggler  to  the  world?  Verily  to  her  he  was  a 
prince.  Was  he  not  a  prince?  Who  but  a 
prince  would  have  sought  death  when  he  had 
seen  the  hopelessness  of  his  love — and  death 
from  the  hand  of  the  king  himself? 

Thus  believing,  she  prayed  for  light ;  prayed 
to  Sarasathi  to  illumine  her  path  that  she  might 
walk  in  the  way  of  her  loves,  the  old  love  and 
14 


®lf?    Urrbiri    of    ilje    <&0&a 

the  new;  prayed  for  guidance  that  she  might 
keep  her  father's  love,  yet  retain  the  greater 
love  that  was  now  begotten  in  her  heart. 

She  sat  by  the  window  wrapt  in  thought. 
The  unwonted  silence  of  the  palace  grew  upon 
her  consciousness.  Something  had  struck  her 
heart  from  the  first  with  dumb  apprehension,  a 
vague  premonition  of  coming  sorrow — then  had 
grown  to  shape  as  the  silence  had  continued 
and  her  hungry  ears  had  still  pined  for  the 
sound  that  for  years  past  had  heralded  the 
coming  of  her  father.  Now  she  realised  with 
a  shock:  he  would  not  come  to  her! 

For  the  first  time  the  father  had  denied 
his  face  to  the  daughter.  The  conflict  had 
indeed  begun ! 

Suddenly  the  curtains  at  the  further  end 
parted.  In  mingled  fear  and  hope  she  turned. 
Then  the  hope  died  away  from  her  eyes.  It  was 
not  her  father,  but  the  mistress  of  the  house- 
hold; she  that  had  power  over  all  who  served 
the  princess.  A  woman  of  dignity,  for  she  was 
the  wife  of  a  warrior  high  in  command,  and  the 
15 


Sift*    U^rfcirt    0f    ily*    (Sn&a 

mother   of  five  others   that  had  proved  their 
valour  on  the  field  of  battle. 

She  stood  at  the  curtain  gazing  before  her. 
Contending  emotions  were  battling  within  her. 
She  had  her  duty  to  fulfil  to  the  king,  cost 
what  it  might.  Yet,  for  years  past  she  had 
served  the  princess  with  the  deepest  affection. 
Now  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  was  bid- 
den to  guard  her  and — watch  her;  to  be  her 
gaoler ! 

She  bowed  to  the  princess,  with  hands  pressed 
to  her  brow.  Then  standing  erect,  she  spoke. 

"  Sahiba,  I  await  thy  pleasure — thy  com- 
mand." And  there  was  a  sudden  huskiness  in 
her  voice  at  the  old  familiar  phrase. 

"  My  father ! "  The  words  were  scarce  ut- 
tered with  the  lips;  rather,  it  was  an  unspoken 
cry  that  needed  no  utterance. 

But  the  other  shook  her  head  sadly.  "  He 
sends  his  peace  and  greetings.  He  regrets  that 
urgent  affairs  of  State  at  the  dewan-i-kas 
(hall  of  audience)  require  his  presence  this 
day." 

16 


This  day?  Too  well  the  maiden  knew  how 
long  that  day  would  last!  Should  she  see  her 
father  again,  till — till 

"  Sahiba,  the  garden-house  is  closed.  But 

these  apartments "  She  hesitated.  How 

could  she  convey  the  cruel  message? 

"Yes?  Do  not  fear.  My  father's  wish  is 
my  wish."  The  calm  dignity  of  the  maiden 
helped  the  matron. 

"  These  apartments  are — at  thy  command." 
Which  meant  that  henceforth  the  princess 
should  be  a  prisoner  within  them ! 

"How  long?" 

"  Unto  the — end !  "  And  the  matron  turned 
away  her  face  lest  perchance  she  should  betray 
.her  trust. 

"And  then?" 

"Thy  destiny,  Sahiba.  What  is  written 
upon  thy  brow  from  thy  birth." 

Her  destiny?     What  was  that?     For  three 

long  years  had  she  prayed  to  Lakshmi  to  reveal 

to  her  that  destiny ;  for  three  long  years  since 

the  dawn  of  her  womanhood  had  she  prayed 

17 


the  benign  goddess  to  tell  her  what  joy,  what 
glory,  awaited  her  on  this  earth.  At  her  birth 
had  she  not  been  promised  a  life  of  perpetual 
happiness  with  her  heart's  beloved?  .  .  .  But 
instead  what  was  in  store  for  her?  What  was 
to  be  the  end  of  all  her  hopes  and  fears?  .  .  . 
Was  it  to  be — death?  Death  for  her  love? 
Death  for  having  dared  to  love?  .  .  .  But  lo, 
that  also  would  be  Fate.  It  would,  at  least,  be 
death  with  her  loved  one.  (She  made  that  vow 
within  her  heart  in  that  moment.)  Then  so  let 
it  be.  Mingling  their  hearts'  blood  together, 
they  would  die.  What  finer  death  could  she 
have  than  that?  .  .  . 

"  Sahiba,  thy  command !  " 

"  This  message :  *  The  daughter  of  a  belted 
queen  sends  homage  to  her  king,  obedience  to 
her  father.  But  her  inmost  heart  she  retains 
for  her  own.'  I  have  spoken." 

The  matron  bowed.  But  at  the  curtain  she 
paused  and  hesitated.  A  strange  softness  came 
into  her  eyes.  Had  she  not  herself  loved  in  her 
own  youth? 

18 


®lf*    Uerfciri    nf    il|*    (Snfcs 

"  Sahiba,  it  is  my  duty  to  place  someone  with 
thee  ceaselessly — to  serve  thee."  (She  could 
not  find  it  in  her  heart  to  say  "  to  watch  thee.") 
"  But  it  shall  be  Leila ;  for  of  all  the  household 
she  loves  thee  best.  .  .  .  And  if  Parameshwar 
chooses  her  to  be  the  instrument  of  thy  destiny, 
then  I  shall  bow  to  the  will  of  Parameshwar — 
my  duty  to  my  king  notwithstanding."  She 
added  that  as  she  departed.  For  there  was  a 
hidden  meaning  in  her  words  that  was  at  once 
full  of  hope  and  comfort;  perhaps  also  some 
daring  suggestion  that  the  princess  should 
fight  her  battle  with  such  weapons  as  Parame- 
shwar sent  her. 

A  while  after  there  was  a  flash  of  drapery 
at  the  parted  curtain — and  the  swift-coming 
shadow  reached  the  princess  and  lay  prostrate 
at  her  feet.  There  was  a  strangled  cry  that  was 
not  spoken  words.  For  the  handmaid  was  but 
seventeen  herself,  and  her  heart  was  soft. 

"  Do  not  weep.  Dost  thou  love  me,  Leila  ? 
Then  do  not  weep.  All  things  will  come  right ; 
shall  come  right."  As  a  princess  she  could  not 
19 


®ly?    Krrfcirt    nf    tlje    <£0&a 

mention  her  sorrow  to  her  handmaid — the  love 
that  had  caused  that  sorrow;  for  princesses 
may  neither  love  nor  speak  of  love.  But  seeing 
that  this  simple  maiden  had  guessed  her  secret, 
and  now  gave  her  the  sympathy  of  her  tears, 
she  accepted  that  homage.  Likewise  she  ac- 
cepted the  offer  of  aid  that  it  tacitly  implied. 

"  And  now  robe  me  in  my  best."  She  almost 
said,  "  As  for  a  bridal." 

Then  the  handmaid  robed  her.  It  was  a  sari 
of  the  loveliest  Dacca  brocade  embroidered  with 
alternate  stars  and  moons  in  gold  and  silver,  and 
draped  lightly  with  Dacca's  "  evening-dew  " — a 
white  transparent  gauze  as  fine  as  gossamer 
lines. 

Over  the  head  and  shoulders  of  the  princess 
she  placed  a  soft  delicate  shawl,  fastening  one 
end  to  the  waist  on  the  left  side,  and  letting  the 
other  end  hang  loose  over  the  right  arm.  And 
upon  her  brow  she  placed  the  "frost-flowers" 
of  Cuttack — a  star  of  diamonds  and  rubies, 
with  forty  fringes  of  alternate  diamonds  and 
pearls  that  hung  down  to  her  eyelashes.  And 
20 


around  her  neck  she  placed  nine  rows  of  pearls, 
and  around  her  right  wrist  a  Rampur  bracelet 
from  which  nine  diverging  rows  of  pearls  radi- 
ated, to  converge  again  upon  the  necklace — ; 
so  that  with  each  movement  of  her  right  arm 
a  thousand  pearls  floated  in  the  air. 

"But  why  so  early,  O  Heaven-born?"  There 
was  wonder  in  the  handmaid's  voice;  for  verily 
the  Princess  Devala  had  never  been  thus  adorned 
till  the  hour  of  sunset.  And  then  was  it  not 
to  receive  her  father,  the  king? 

"To  remind  me  every  hour  that  I  am  the 
daughter  of  a  belted  queen." 

Then  the  handmaid  understood.  The  Princess 
Devala  drew  her  blood  from  a  noble  ancestress 
that  had  done  battle  for  her  lover  with  sword 
and  lance — yea,  astride  his  corpse.  From  that 
hour  the  Princess  Devala  had  vowed  within  her 
heart  a  twofold  vow:  to  obey  her  father — and 
yet  to  do  battle  for  her  lover. 

That  night  the  princess  stood  at  her  window 
— to  think,  to  hope,  to  pray  for  light  and  guid- 
ance. Within  these  prison  walls  she  must  play 


her  part ;  if  needs  be,  prove  the  blood  of  a  belted 
queen  within  her  veins. 

Beneath  her  lay  the  city  wall;  beyond  it  the 
fields.  A  hundred  cubits  to  the  left,  facing 
westward,  was  the  Tower  of  Victory.  Yes,  upon 
it  her  lover  must  meet  his  fate!  How,  she 
knew  not  yet.  What  could  the  nature  of  the 
trial  be?  Lo,  she  was  only  a  maiden,  wrapped 
up  in  silks  and  pearls.  Would  that  she  were  a 
man  !  Then  indeed  would  she  discover  the  secret 
of  her  father's  heart  and  the  nature  of  the  peril 
that  awaited  her  beloved — and  thus  perchance 
warn  him  of  it.  Being  only  a  maiden,  she  could 
but  pray  for  guidance. 

Suddenly,  when  the  stillness  of  night  was 
creeping  over  the  earth,  she  saw  a  faint  glim- 
mering light  far  away  to  the  right.  What 
omen  was  this?  What  omen  of  hope? 

The  light  vanished.     It  was  but  a  flash. 

Her  heart  sank  within  her.  Was  it  but  a 
coinage  of  her  brain,  or  rather  the  manifesta- 
tion of  some  benevolent  power  working  of  her 
hope?  .  .  .  Thus,  O  Morning  Star  of  Life 


SII}?    Vtritirt    nf    tlfe    (60fca 

(said  the  Story-teller  unto  the  Great  King) 
doth  the  human  heart  clutch  at  a  will-o'-the- 
wisp  in  the  hour  of  its  darkness.  .  .  . 

But  the  next  night,  at  the  self-same  hour,  she 
saw  the  light  again.  She  thought  she  saw  it. 
She  sat  still,  in  fear  and  hope. 

Two  hundred  cubits  to  the  right  were  the 
ruins  of  an  ancient  palace.  Upon  it  she  had 
seen  the  light.  Was  it  the  spirit  of  the  dead 
that  had  once  dwelt  therein  sending  her  a  mes- 
sage from  beyond  the  borderland? 

And  upon  the  third  night  and  the  fourth  and 
the  fifth  she  saw  the  self-same  light. 

But  upon  the  sixth,  turning  her  eyes  to  the 
pillar  on  the  left,  she  saw  the  glimmer  at  its 
base.  And  a  while  after,  upon  its  pinnacle. 

With  a  blanched  face  she  rose  upon  the 
morn. 

"Dost  thou  love  me,  Leila?  Dost  thou  love 
me  more  than  all  things  ?  " 

And  for  an  answer  the  poor  girl  clung  to  her 
hand,  bathing  it  in  tears. 

"Then  go  forth  into  the  city  and  find  the 


©If*    TJrr&trt    of    ll?e    ®a&0 

wisest  man  that  dwelleth  there.     To  him  put 
this  riddle :     '  Is  the  light  human  or  divine  ? ' ' 
And  the  handmaid  went  forth  and  searched 
the  city.     At  eve  she  returned  with  this  mes- 
sage written  upon  a  palm-leaf: 

"Both  human  and  divine.  Five  times  upon 
the  ruins;  the  sixth  upon  the  pillar — first  at  its 
base,  then  upon  the  pinnacle.  Thus  five  times 
shall  there  be  suspense;  then  triumph;  but 
triumph  beginning  with  despair.  For  the  base 
comes  before  the  pinnacle. — RAMA  KRISHNA." 

Then  the  Princess  Devala  knew  that  in  Rama 
Krishna  she  had  a  friend — perchance  the  chosen 
instrument  of  the  gods.  A  new  light  was 
dawning  within  her  heart,  even  like  unto  the 
light  that  had  shone  without;  for  the  one  was 
but  a  symbol  of  the  other.  With  new-born  hope 
in  her  heart  she  turned  to  rest,  awaiting  the 
morrow.  For  the  morrow  was  the  day  of  trial. 
...  She  knew  not  that  even  now  the  hand  of 
Fate  was  creeping  up  to  her  beloved ! 

At  the  third  watch  that  night  a  veiled  _f orm 
24 


SFIj*    Uerfciri    af    tlje    (Sxifca 

stole  up  to  the  guard  at  the  palace  dungeon.  A 
mere  youth,  though  of  good  birth,  he  was  yet 
the  captain  of  the  palace  guards.  At  this  the 
critical  hour  of  the  night  preceding  the  day  of 
trial,  he  had  deemed  it  his  duty  to  his  king  to 
guard  the  dungeon  in  person.  Twice  had  he 
opened  the  door  at  regular  intervals  to  see  that 
his  prisoner  still  slept  within.  And  now  even 
as  he  had  opened  it  for  the  third  time,  the  veiled 
from  reached  his  side. 

She  held  out  to  him  a  tray  upon  which  was 
a  dish  of  delicate  sweetmeats  and  a  goblet  of 
cool  sherbet.  But  Harnam  Das  smiled  grimly. 
Though  young  in  years,  he  was  old  in  wisdom: 
he  knew  that  palace  sweetmeats  had  power  to 
send  one  to  sleep. 

"  I  have  made  these  with  my  own  hands.  Eat 
and  drink,"  she  whispered  softly. 

And  at  the  sound  of  the  voice  the  guard 
started,  clutching  at  his  breath — feeling  the 
blood  surge  thick  through  his  throbbing  heart. 
Long  had  he  nursed  a  secret  love  in  his  heart, 
but  had  never  dared  to  reveal  it — to  raise  his 
25 


eyes  to  her  that  was  the  favourite  maiden  of  the 
palace,  the  sweetest,  the  loveliest  of  them  all 
that  served  the  princess.  .  .  .  And  now  the 
maiden  herself  stood  before  him! 

He  took  the  tray  from  her,  and  laid  it  upon 
a  tripod  beside  him.  He  lifted  the  goblet, 
and  held  it  to  her  lips,  saying.  "  Sweeten  it 
first." 

Without  a  word  Leila  raised  her  veil  and 
sipped  the  sherbet ;  and  after  her  the  youth 
drank  it  down  as  if  it  were  the  nectar  of  the 
gods. 

Then  thus  encouraged  he  brought  his  hand  to 
her  hand,  and  drew  her  gently  to  him.  With  a 
sigh  she  yielded  herself  up  to  him — a  sigh  of 
mingled  fear  and  hope,  of  love  and  peace  and 
contentment;  for  she  returned  his  love.  Yet 
must  she  do  her  duty  to  her  mistress — neverthe- 
less spare  her  lover  the  betrayal  of  his  duty  to 
his  master. 

She  raised  her  other  hand  from  beneath  the 
folds  of  her  sari,  and  coiled  it  round  him.  Then 
lifting  her  head  she  kissed  him  suddenly — thus 
26 


drowning  a  soft  thud  behind  that  in  the  ecstasy 
of  the  moment  he  could  not  hear. 

The  crumpled  palm-leaf  shot  from  her  hand 
through  the  open  door  and  fell  upon  the  breast 
of  the  sleeper  within.  She  saw  him  awake,  gaze 
at  the  message,  seize  it.  Then  even  as  she  saw 
it  safe  in  Narayan  Lai's  belt,  she  suddenly 
released  the  enraptured  guard  from  her  embrace 
and  glided  away  into  the  corridor  beyond. 

The  guard  awoke  from  his  transient  dream, 
and,  suddenly  conscious  of  his  duty,  turned 
round  to  the  door  and  peered  at  his  prisoner ;  but 
seeing  him  still  locked  in  slumber,  he  softly 
closed  the  door — thanking  the  gods  that  he  had 
not  failed  in  his  trust  even  in  his  dalliance  with 
his  heart's  beloved. 

That  instant,  even  as  he  heard  the  bolt  close 
upon  the  door,  the  sleeper  raised  his  head,  took 
out  the  message  from  his  belt  and  held  it  to  the 
glimmering  light  of  the  little  oil  chirag  in  the 
corner  of  his  cell.  Thus  it  ran : 

"  The  instrument  of  the  gods  awaits  thee.  In 
27 


the  hour  of  trial  await  him.  Upon  the  pinnacle 
lies  death;  beneath  the  sand  life.  Watch  and 
hope." 

And  Leila,  who  for  the  love  of  her  mistress 
had  delivered  this  message  at  the  peril  of  her 
life,  fled  through  the  corridor  with  a  panting 
heart.  But  even  as  she  was  about  to  reach  the 
inner  palace  (the  harem)  she  heard  a  cat-like 
tread.  Something  glistened  before  her;  van- 
ished. In  sudden  terror  she  recoiled;  found 
shelter  behind  a  pillar.  Long  she  waited,  hold- 
ing her  breath.  The  footsteps  had  died  away. 
Still  she  waited. 

The  silence  of  the  night  now  grew  around  her. 
Then  she  emerged  from  the  shelter  of  the  pillar. 
The  harem  door  lay  ten  cubits  afar;  one  deep 
breath,  and  she  would  be  behind  the  curtain- 
undetected,  her  mission  fulfilled. 

That  instant  a  muffled  form  leapt  out  from  a 
side  passage ;  seized  her  fiercely. 

"Now  I  have  thee!"  he  hissed  between  his 
teeth.  With  bleary  blood-shot  eyes  he  peered 
28 


UerfcUi    0f    tlf*    (Sn&a 

into  hers,  and  bringing  his  thick  hemp-sodden 
lips  to  her  mouth,  fastened  them  upon  it  like  a 
vampire  sucking  the  sweetness  of  her  tender 
flesh. 

A  strangled  cry,  a  stifled  shriek — her  right 
hand  shot  from  her  bosom.  There  was  a  flash 
of  white,  and  the  jewelled  stiletto  came  straight 
for  her  captor's  face — missed  his  eye,  but 
pierced  his  ear;  passed  beyond,  and  was  trans- 
fixed upon  the  sandal  pillar. 

With  a  muttered  curse  he  put  up  his  hands. 
In  the  momentary  respite  she  slipped  away  from 
him,  and  fled  into  the  harem  like  a  frightened 
deer. 

Binding  up  his  ear  with  the  end  of  his  turban, 
the  man  stuck  the  stiletto  in  his  belt.  "My 
pretty  bird,  once  again  hast  thou  escaped  me; 
but  the  next  time  I  shall  have  my  fill.  Then  I 
shall  cast  thee  from  me,  and  gloat  over  thee  and 
thy  lover — ay,  over  thy  mistress  and  her  lover 
in  their  ignoble  doom." 

It  was  the  challenge  of  a  demon  to  the  mes- 
sage of  hope  of  the  instrument  of  the  gods. 
29 


Chapter 


ON    THE    TOWER    OF    VICTORY 

'NOW,  O  Seat  of  Wisdom,  that  the 
Tower  of  Victory,  which  was  to  be 
the  scene  of  Narayan  Lai's  trial,  had 
been  erected  a  thousand  years  before 
by  a  conqueror  to  commemorate  his  victory  over 
the  ancestor  of  the  king.  It  was  an  eye-sore  to 
him.  Wither  it  with  his  breath  he  would  if  he 
could  ;  pull  it  down  bodily  he  dared  not.  For  a 
public  monument  is  hedged  in  by  a  tradition 
that  has  the  force  of  religion. 

No  human  hand  could  destroy  it.  But  the 
will  of  a  higher  power  could.  The  king  resolved 
to  test  that  will.  Narayan  Lai  would  be  its 
medium. 

Now  this  stone  pillar,  tall  and  narrow,  was  no 
longer  vertical.     An  earthquake  had  shaken  it 
30 


SI;*    Urratrt    af    tlj  e    (5  n  i  0 

out  of  the  perpendicular,  till  its  summit,  one 
hundred  cubits  (150  feet)  high,  leaned  six 
cubits  to  one  side.  Since  its  circular  base  was 
only  four  cubits  in  diameter,  this  divergence 
should  have  been  more  than  sufficient  to  cast 
down  the  pillar;  but  the  unknown  portion  un- 
der the  earth  lowered  the  centre  of  gravity 
somewhat,  and  thus  brought  it  within  sup- 
port. 

How  deep  this  was  no  one  knew.  Hence  to 
what  height  a  man  might  safely  ascend — with- 
out his  added  weight,  gaining  in  leverage  each 
foot  he  climbed,  just  throwing  the  centre  of 
gravity  out  of  support  and  overcoming  the  lev- 
erage of  the  weights  of  earth  upon  the  base  and 
thereby  casting  down  the  whole  pillar — was  a 
matter  of  momentous  speculation. 

It  was  a  fit  theme  for  the  trial. 

As  Narayan  Lai  climbed  higher  and  higher 
the  centre  of  gravity  would  draw  inch  by  inch 
nearer  the  edge  of  the  base — till  that  fatal  line 
were  reached.  Then  the  tower  would  fall,  which 
the  king  much  desired.  It  would  also  kill  Nara- 
31 


©tf*    leriirt    of   ilf*    (Sails 

yan  Lai,  which  the  king  equally  desired.  The 
will  of  the  gods  would  be  made  manifest  in  both 
matters. 

It  was  only  at  the  moment  of  trial  that  the 
king  publicly  declared  its  nature.  .  .  .  But,  O 
Seat  of  Wisdom  (said  the  Story-teller  unto  the 
Great  King)  to  a  pundit  and  a  philosopher  the 
nature  of  the  trial  was  already  known.  For 
had  not  Narayan  Lai's  master  declared  that 
"  on  the  Tower  of  Victory  "  he  should  meet  his 
fate?  .  .  . 

Thus  a  vast  multitude,  having  heard  vague 
rumours  from  the  twelve  guards  that  had  wit- 
nessed the  scene  in  the  garden,  gathered  around 
the  pillar;  around,  yet  a  hundred  cubits  afar. 
Men  all,  no  women;  it  was  anathema  for  a 
woman  to  see  the  taking  of  human  life. 

It  was  a  surging  sea  of  heads,  quivering 
in  a  ceaseless  tremor;  white-turbaned,  grey-tur- 
baned,  yellow-turbaned ;  the  plougher  from  the 
fields,  the  lordling  from  his  wines,  the  pundit 
from  his  musty  scrolls.  For  they  scarcely  be- 
lieved that  this  man  would  die  without  a  gal- 


lant  bid  for  life.  About  his  crime  they  knew 
little,  and  cared  less.  That  was  between  him 
and  his  judge. 

"It  is  said  that  he  had  cast  eyes  upon  the 
beautiful  princess,"  muttered  a  one-eyed  man 
with  a  hideous  leer  and  the  signs  of  much 
opium-smoking  upon  his  bloodless  face.  "  But 
methinks  more  had  come  to  pass  between  the 
two — which  none  would  care  to  reveal." 

His  hearers  scouted  the  base  insinuation. 

"  Else  why  this  royal  rage  to  take  his  life  ?  " 
argued  the  tempter. 

"  But  this  man  said  he  was  of  Kshattric 
blood,"  questioned  another.  "  Then  how  came 
he  to  be  the  reputed  son  of  Hira  Lai  of 
Benares?" 

Then  a  snow-bearded  oracle,  who  had  heard 
much  but  said  little,  gave  tongue  to  his  thoughts. 

"  Listen,  O  brothers,  and  I  will  tell  you  the 
law.  It  is  written  that  no  man  can  be  a  king 
unless  he  be  a  Kshattric,  but  every  Kshattric 
need  not  be  a  king. 

"  Now,  I  have  heard,  or  have  read  from  the 


®If*    TJrr&irt    of    ilje    (Softs 

stars,  or  the  gods  themselves  have  revealed  it  to 
me — it  matters  not  which — that  five-and-twenty 
years  ago  Hira  Lai  of  Benares  found  a  babe 
floating  in  a  wicker  basket  on  the  bosom  of  the 
Ganges." 

A  sudden  hush  fell  upon  the  throng,  while 
each  eager  eye  scanned  the  speaker's  face  to 
read  this  solemn  portent. 

"  In  that  basket  was  a  chaplet  of  pearls,  a 
piece  of  sandal  wood  and  the  sacred  thread  of 
the  twice-born.  The  thread  he  bestowed  upon 
the  child  on  the  anniversary  of  that  day,  and 
with  the  sandal  wood  he  anointed  his  brow. 
The  chaplet  of  pearls  he  gave  to  the  king  on  the 
birth  of  the  princess — to  be  kept  for  her  wed- 
ding-day." 

"An  omen!  an  omen!"  whispered  an  awe- 
stricken  voice.  "Marvellous  are  the  ways  of 
Parameshwar!  Let  us  see  how  the  omen  re- 
veals itself." 

The  multitude  turned  their  eyes  to  the  pillar 
at  whose  base  stood  the  prisoner;  from  him  to 
the  king  sitting  upon  a  raised  dai's  two  hundred 


Elje    Olfrbtri    of    t  Ij  e    (Sobs 

cubits  northward,  behind  which  lay  like  a  fallen 
giant  the  ruins  of  the  old  palace  where  once 
had  dwelt  the  conqueror  that  had  built  the 
tower. 

The  young  man  bowed  to  the  king,  his  hands 
crossed  over  his  breast ;  yet  in  his  eye  there  was 
a  lustre  that  was  not  all  shame.  And  a  faint 
smile  broke  upon  his  lips  as  he  raised  his  head 
from  the  ground.  Then,  as  the  guards  released 
him  and  walked  away  on  either  side,  he  sprang 
to  the  first  balcony  and  swung  himself  to  it  with 
his  long,  lithe  arms. 

Every  seven  feet  was  a  circular  balcony  that 
could  be  entered  by  the  narrow  winding  stair- 
case within  the  tower.  But  the  prisoner  must 
climb  from  tier  to  tier  from  the  outside — with 
his  bare  hands.  He  must  be  in  sight  till  he 
reached  the  last  tier.  If  he  did  that,  and 
returned  safe  to  earth,  his  first  trial  would  be 
over. 

And  now  he  stood  upon  the  first  balcony, 
and  bowed  anew  to  the  king.  A  sudden  silence 
fell  upon  the  vast  multitude  as  it  dawned  upon 
35 


SII|e    Ueritirt    nf    life    (Sa&a 

them  that  indeed  the  trial  had  begun.  They 
realised  for  the  first  time  that  a  man's  life  was 
literally  hanging  by  a  thread. 

It  was  scarce  an  hour  before  sunset,  and  the 
pillar  stood  out  in  bold  relief  against  the 
heavens.  It  leaned  to  the  westward,  so  that  in 
falling  it  might  have  blotted  out  the  sun.  The 
man's  white  tunic  and  white  turban  shone  in  the 
reflected  glory  of  the  levelled  rays  that  bathed 
him  in  a  celestial  halo.  His  whole  countenance 
was  transformed  in  the  mystic  light.  He  stood 
there  dominating  the  populace.  He  seemed  less 
a  doomed  convict  than  a  prophet  and  a  judge. 

A  dim  consciousness  awoke  in  the  multitude 
that  this  man  had  the  aid  of  a  power  given  to  no 
man  in  their  generation.  They  remembered  the 
fame  of  Hira  Lai  of  Bernares,  his  reputed 
father,  and  felt  that  his  mantle  had  indeed 
fallen  upon  this  young  man  who  had  been  sent 
down  the  Ganges,  no  man  knew  whence.  But 
all  men  knew  that  the  Ganges  flowed  from  heaven 
itself. 

This  was,  indeed,  the  hour  of  his  triumph. 
36 


Stlf*    Herfcirl    af    it}*    <80&0 

So  the  multitude  felt,  and  would  have  been 
cruelly  grieved  to  see  him  fail  and  die.  That 
would  have  seemed  the  failure  of  omnipotence 
itself. 

"  Brothers  1 "  whispered  a  man  with  a  catch 
in  his  breath,  "last  night  I  was  returning  late 
to  town — even  as  the  guards  were  closing  the 
gate.  Near  the  tower  a  strange  fear  had  crept 
over  me;  it  was  silent  desolation  everywhere. 
Suddenly,  as  I  drew  abreast  of  the  tower,  I 
heard  a  deep  rumbling  sound — in  the  very 
bowels  of  the  earth.  Sounded  to  me  like  the 
mutterings  of  the  dead !  I  fled  to  the  city-gate, 
pursued  by  a  thousand  terrors." 

"  A  manifestation ! "  It  was  a  low  deep  mur- 
mur that  broke  from  the  throng.  For  there 
were  some  there  that  had  heard  of  a  wondrous 
legend:  that  when  that  tower  was  built  there 
was  a  deep  cavern  beneath  its  foundations ;  and 
that  its  builder,  who  lived  in  the  ancient  palace 
on  the  north,  was  wont  to  immure  in  that  cavern 
those  members  of  his  own  family  whom  he  sus- 
pected of  aiming  at  the  throne.  Verily,  it  was 
37 


the  spirit  of  the  dead  manifesting  itself  as  a 
warning  unto  all  men! 

Thus  with  mingled  fear  and  wonder  they 
watched  the  youth  as  he  climbed  up  higher  and 
higher.  They  saw  him  pause  at  each  tier, 
and  bow  anew  to  the  king.  But  he  was  silent 
and  never  a  sound  escaped  his  lips.  Those  near 
enough,  or  blest  with  keen  vision,  vowed  that 
they  saw  him  smile  as  he  bowed;  but  they  also 
vowed  that  the  smile  was  as  that  of  a  bride- 
groom going  to  meet  his  bride. 

And  the  king  was  also  silent.  Between  the 
two  a  conflict  seemed  to  rage  that  the  multitude 
could  not  shape  into  utterance,  yet  felt  with 
dumb  instinct. 

Struck  by  some  sudden  inspiration  Narayan 
Lai  made  the  circuit  of  a  balcony.  He  stopped 
at  the  east  and  bowed  to  the  people  there;  he 
stopped  at  the  south  and  bowed  to  the  people 
there.  He  came  to  the  west  and  bowed  to  the 
setting  sun. 

The  sun  leapt  from  a  fleeing  cloud  and  smiled 
upon  him.  So  they  will  aver  to  this  day,  and 


Sir*    VtrftUt    nf    tlje    (gn&s 

tell  it  to  their  children,  and  children's  children, 
for  an  ancient  prophecy. 

But  when  seventy  cubits  from  the  ground,  he 
was  seen  to  stand  upright  upon  the  balustrade 
and  balance  himself  with  distended  arms.  And 
he  faced  the  king  where  he  sat  upon  his 
throne. 

"Ho,  brother!  see  what  comes  out  of  his 
mouth!"  exclaimed  a  spectator  on  the  north. 

"It  is  like  a  cobweb,  and  he  like  a  spider," 
answered  another. 

For  it  was  a  thin  ethereal  line  issuing  from  his 
mouth,  white  against  the  blue  transparent  sky. 
It  was  so  slender  that  it  seemed  more  like  the 
gossamer  lines  that  float  in  the  mind's  eye,  than 
a  material,  tangible  substance.  It  was  there  a 
moment;  gone  the  next;  back  again  the  third. 
It  was  here,  there — everywhere — nowhere. 

"  It  is  a  thread,  a  silken  thread.  It  points  to 
the  king,"  exclaimed  a  third,  shading  his  eyes 
for  a  longer  vision. 

It  had  grown  thicker.  It  seemed  real  enough 
now.  It  floated  in  the  air  in  a  graceful  curve 
39 


SFlfe    lUrfcirt    nf    tlfe    (gnfta 

that  lengthened  every  instant,  the  end  sailing 
northwards  towards  the  king. 

Yet  there  was  no  breeze.  Not  a  leaf  stirred 
in  the  stillness  of  the  air. 

"No,  brothers,  it  is  not  a  thread.  It  is  a 
cord!" 

Truly,  it  was  as  thick  as  a  cord.  A  moment 
ago  it  had  been  a  thread ;  one  rubbed  one's  eyes 
to  look  again — and  found  it  a  cord. 

"  It  is  not  white.     It  is  a  dark  grey." 

True  also ;  the  white  gossamer  had  grown  into 
a  grey  cord.  And  now  it  reached  full  half  the 
distance  that  lay  between  the  tower  and  the  dai's. 

"But  see,  it  is  not  from  his  mouth.  It  is 
from  his  right  hand." 

"From  his  left!" 

"  No,  around  his  turban ! " 

But  before  they  could  decide  from  where, 
Narayan  Lai  had  begun  to  climb  again.  He 
was  now  seven  tiers  from  the  top — six — five 

"See  that!"  cried  out  a  man,  reeling  upon 
his  neighbour  as  if  he  felt  the  earth  shake  be- 
neath his  feet. 

40 


HE  WAS  SEEN  TO  STAND  ....  AND  BALANCE  HIMSELF 
WITH  DISTENDED  ARMS  " 


"What?     Where?" 

But  the  look  of  sudden  horror  that  came  to 
the  speaker's  eyes  answered  the  words. 

The  pillar  was  gently  swaying  in  the  air,  the 
slender  top  writing  its  last  message  upon  the 
heavens. 

It  might  have  been  a  passing  cloud  above  that 
gave  the  sense  of  motion.  But  no  cloud  returns 
the  way  it  came.  And  the  pillar-top  was 
retracing  its  lines  against  the  sky. 

The  multitude  forgot  to  breathe.  Strong 
men  clutched  at  their  hearts,  and  shook  in  their 
nether  limbs.  A  moan  here,  a  deep  gurgle  there 
— and  some  fell  senseless  in  their  brethren's 
arms.  Others  stood  like  dazed  children,  and  saw 
visions.  All  were  hushed  in  speechless  horror. 

"  Come  down !  Come  down ! "  a  piercing  cry 
broke  the  stillness. 

"  Come  down ! "  shrieked  a  hundred  trembling 
men. 

"  Come  down ! "  a  cry  of  ten  thousand  stricken 
hearts  rent  the  sky. 

With  his  hands  upon  the  third  tier,  Narayan 
41 


®lj?    Vtrbfrt    0f    tlje    (Sn&a 

Lai  was  seen  to  waver.  He  cast  his  eyes  upon 
the  distant  throne  to  know  his  fate.  But  a 
rigid  relentless  form  sat  upon  it.  No  softness 
was  in  his  eyes,  no  smile  upon  his  lips.  No 
signal  of  mercy  in  his  arms. 

"  No !  Higher — yet  higher !  Beloved,  thy 
task  is  not  yet  over.  Higher — higher!" 

It  was  a  shriek,  but  a  shriek  of  frenzied 
triumph  full  of  endless  hope  and  infinite  faith 
that  no  fear  could  quench.  Faint,  and  yet  dis- 
tinct ;  near,  and  yet  afar.  Standing  with  their 
backs  to  the  royal  palace,  it  seemed  to  the  multi- 
tude to  come  from  the  clouds  above. 

At  the  palace  window,  just  beneath  the  top- 
most turret  of  the  citadel,  a  small  purple  veil 
lined  with  diamonds  and  pearls  floated  in  the  air 
in  the  levelled  rays  of  the  setting  sun.  Unseen 
by  the  multitude  that  had  eyes  only  for  that 
tragic  form  upon  the  tower,  it  hung  against 
the  window-sill — a  silent  message  of  love,  of 
sympathy,  of  encouragement.  A  beacon-light 
to  guide  him  to  his  destiny. 

Narayan  Lai  saw  it — and  with  a  panting 
42 


heart  nerved  himself  for  the  last  ascent.  If  die 
he  must,  he  would  die  with  his  beloved's  eyes 
upon  him.  If  rather  he  was  destined  to  conquer 
death,  she  would  witness  his  triumph. 

The  multitude  caught  at  the  hope.  One  small 
feeble  voice,  strengthened  by  some  surging  emo- 
tion to  be  heard  so  clear,  had  come  to  their 
rescue.  A  while  ago  they  had  inwardly  sworn 
their  faith  in  this  man's  destiny.  Now  they 
were  saved  from  its  betrayal  by  one  small  feeble 
voice. 

"  Higher,  Narayan  Lai ! " 

"  Unto  the  summit,  O  Man  of  Fate ! " 

In  a  moment  the  fickle  multitude  had  forgot- 
ten their  own  perfidy.  They  now  shouted  to 
Narayan  Lai  to  fetch  them  the  stars  from  the 
heavens. 

In  their  new-born  enthusiasm  they  recked  not 
that  the  pillar  now  shook  in  a  larger  curve.  All 
else  was  forgotten  but  that  toiling  form  so  near 
its  triumph — or  death. 

"  Look    again,    brothers ! "    gasped   a   voice. 
"  It  is  not  a  cord.     It  is  a  rope ! " 
43 


®ffe    Uerfclrt    of    ilje    (gn&a 

"  It  has  grown  thicker.  It  comes  nearer  the 
king!" 

"  I  see  nothing,"  muttered  another.  "  You 
dream,  my  friends." 

They  took  sides,  that  vacillating  crowd.  Some 
swore  by  their  fathers'  beards  that  it  was  a  rope 
— that  it  hung  over  the  king's  dai's,  ten  cubits 
above.  The  end,  they  confessed,  they  could  not 
distinguish.  It  seemed  lost  in  a  kind  of  haze 
or  mist. 

Others  stoutly  denied  that  there  was  any- 
thing. It  might,  perchance,  be  a  line  of  cloud 
or  smoke  far  up  in  the  air  that  they  mistook  for 
a  rope  so  near. 

All  eyes  were  turned  towards  the  end  of  the 
rope — real  or  imaginary.  They  felt  a  vague, 
indefinable  sensation,  as  nevrous  people  do  before 
a  thunderstorm.  There  seemed  to  be  something 
in  the  air,  heavy  and  unbreathable ;  something 
that  deadened  the  brain  and  weakened  the 
power  of  volition;  some  subtle  emanation  from 
a  presence  other  than  their  own. 

"  Where  is  he?  "  It  was  a  sudden  cry  from 
44 


someone  that  chanced  to  turn  his  eyes  towards 
the  pillars. 

When  we  witness  a  balloon  ascending  the  sky 
we  see  it  last  like  a  black  spot  hanging  from  the 
vault  of  heaven.  It  rises  higher,  and  the  black 
spot  becomes  a  speck.  Then  we  rub  our  eyes, 
and  we  guess  where  we  last  saw  it.  We  aver 
it  is  still  there ;  some  of  us  swear  they  still  see  it. 
The  next  instant  even  they  are  doubtful  if  it  be 
not  a  mere  remembrance  of  the  retina. 

Narayan  Lai  had  disappeared  from  their  ken 
like  such  a  speck.  The  last  three  tiers  of  the 
tower  were  now  wrapped  in  a  mist — real  or 
imaginary,  none  could  tell. 

Suddenly  the  mist  seemed  to  clear  at  the 
summit ;  the  pointed  pinnacle  appeared  in  sight. 

"Back!  Back,  all!  The  tower  falls!" 
yelled  a  thousand  maddened  men. 

The  pinnacle  swept  in   a   rush  to  the  west. 

» 

.    .    .      But  it  swung  back  again  to  the  east. 

"  Shabash,     Narayan ! "     a     brazen     throat 
shouted  to  the  heavens.     "  He  has  reached  the 
top !     See  him — see  him ! " 
45 


The  frenzied  multitude  took  up  the  cry. 
Some  danced,  some  raved!  some  fell  fainting  to 
the  ground. 

A  shapeless  bundle  of  white  emerged  for  an 
instant  above  the  mist.  It  might  have  been  a 
turbaned  head — or  only  a  ball  of  cloud.  It 
swung  with  the  pinnacle. 

To  the  east  the  pinnacle  rushed  .  .  .  not  so 
far  as  it  should  have  gone  .  .  .  reared  back 
suddenly  to  the  zenith.  .  .  .  Plunged  to  the 
west  like  a  mad  horse  leaping  into  a  yawning 
chasm.  Hung  a  moment  at  the  limit  of  its  last 
sweep — passed  it.  ... 

The  gigantic  column  cut  through  the  roof  of 
the  sky  .  .  .  caught  up  the  sinking  sun  .  .  . 
eclipsed  it.  ... 

A  fearful  blow  smote  the  earth,  and  rocked 
its  crest  like  a  shell  upon  the  bosom  of  the  deep. 

The  falling  tower  bounded  anew  from  the  shock, 

» 
then  lay  prone  like  some  huge  leviathan  killed 

by  a  mortal  thrust. 

A  cloud  of  fine  dust  arose  on  either  side,  and 
spread  in  a  screen  around  the  sun.     As  if  at  the 
46 


SI;*    Ber&irt    of    tljr    (gnfca 

touch  of  a  magic  wand  the  fiery  orb  shot  out  its 
rays  in  bands  of  red  and  orange  and  purple. 
It  was  a  radiant  god  embracing  the  earth  in  ten 
thousand  arms. 

A  human  groan  gave  utterance  to  the  pent-up 
fear. 

"Merciful  Bhugwan — he  is  dead!  Crushed 
beneath  the  tower!" 

The  human  sea  swayed  purposeless  a  moment, 
then  plunged  in  a  frantic  rush  towards  the  head 
of  the  column.  Suddenly  they  were  checked 
by  a  shout. 

"The  King!     The  King!" 

Circling  round,  they  swept  in  a  whirlwind  to 
the  dai's. 

Tall,  towering,  pale  and  emaciated,  that  aged 
figure  stood  erect  in  silence.  His  eyes  glistened 
with  an  unearthly  light — the  light  that  men 
sometimes  see  in  dark  places.  His  breast  heaved 
with  some  unseen  emotion  that  struggled  within 
and  refused  to  be  stifled. 

Twice  he  raised  his  right  hand,  and  twice  he 
flung  it  down  by  his  side,  muttering  unheard 
47 


words  between  his  lips.  The  third  time  the 
hand  seemed  held  aloft  by  some  unknown  power 
— the  left  followed  it — the  two  descended  to- 
gether, slowly,  gently,  till  they  met  before  him, 
palms  downwards. 

A  white-clad  form  was  seen  to  bend  before 
him.  It  knelt  at  his  feet,  caught  up  the  out- 
stretched hands  in  its  own,  and  pressed  them  to 
its  lips. 

"  Behold  the  face  of  thy  slave,  O  King!  The 
will  of  Parameshwar  is  done ! " 

Then  the  people  around  saw  his  uplifted  face 
in  the  last  rays  of  the  setting  sun. 

It  was  Narayan  Lai.   .  .  . 

As  men  walking  in  their  sleep  the  multitude 
dispersed. 

"  But  whence  came  he  there  ?  "  asked  one  of 
another.  They  were  the  two  guards  that  sat  at 
the  palace  gate  on  the  night  of  Narayan  Lai's 
crime. 

"  He  must  have  come  down  the  tower  by  the 
steps  inside,"  answered  the  other. 

"  Then  how  fell  the  tower — if  he  came  down 
48 


Stlj?    Herfcirt    nf    l\\t    <&nba 

before  it  fell  ?  "  persisted  the  questioner.  "  Me- 
thinks  he  came  down  by  the  rope." 

"The  rope — the  rope!"  cried  out  the 
bystanders. 

But  there  was  no  rope  to  be  seen  now. 

"  There  never  was  any  rope,"  swore  a  thought- 
less one. 

"  Pardon,  friends,  there  was — in  your  minds. 
You  were  all  like  sleeping  children,  seeing  ropes 
and  hearing  harps  in  the  air.  You  were  dream- 
ing dreams,  my  friends.  If  there  was  no  rope, 
there  was  no  tower,  no  king,  no  Narayan  Lai. 
You  saw  them  all,  yet  saw  nothing.  Leastwise, 
there  was  the  tower,  and  there  was  Narayan  Lai ; 
and  you  dreamt  many  things  besides.  Go  home, 
good  people,  and  pray  the  gods  to  give  you 
understanding." 

The  figure  vanished  in  the  crowd.  They 
recognised  the  broad  trident  of  Vishnu  on  his 
brow,  and  the  scars  of  self-inflicted  wounds.  It 
was  Rama  Krishna,  the  pundit. 

But  at  the  midnight  hour  a  group  of  men  were 
gathered  together  in  a  den  at  the  ouskirts  of 
49 


the  town.  They  were  ganja  (hemp)  smokers, 
and  the  lowest  idlers  of  the  bazaar — save  one. 
He,  in  his  sober  moments,  might  have  seemed  to 
be  a  man  of  higher  rank,  with  power  in  his  eyes 
and  pride  in  his  gait.  But  sodden  with  hemp, 
he  was  just  one  of  them:  his  bloodshot  eyes 
blinking  in  the  glimmering  light,  his  sensuous 
lips  drooping  downwards  in  impotent  rage  at 
some  secret  discomfiture,  his  turban  tilted  slant- 
ingly over  his  head — so  that  one  side  of  it  hung 
heavy  over  his  ear. 

When  the  fumes  of  the  drug  had  heightened 
their  fancy  and  loosened  their  tongues,  the  hemp- 
smokers  unfolded  a  drunken  tale. 

"  Brothers,"  said  one,  gazing  into  the  curling 
smoke  above  his  head  even  as  one  gazes  into  the 
ink  pool  to  find  out  hidden  things,  "  that  Rama 
Krishna  is  no  pundit,  but  a  magician.  Three 
nights  ago  when  I  was  returning  to  town,  I  saw 
the  glimmering  light  upon  the  ruins  of  the  old 
palace.  No  living  man  would  have  ventured 
to  approach  the  spirits  in  their  manifesta- 
tion. 

50 


©I;?    Uerfcirt    0f    life    (Softs 

"  But  Rama  Krishna  so  dared.  For,  standing 
still  beneath  a  tree  in  much  fear,  I  saw  the  light 
die  away,  and  a  while  after  I  heard  footsteps 
— coming  straight  from  the  ruins !  This  man 
passed  me  by.  It  was  Rama  Krishna ! " 

A  sneering  laugh  answered  him.  "  No  magi- 
cian, but  a  conspirator!  It  was  no  spirit,  but 
Rama  Krishna  himself  that  made  the  light — 
with  a  lantern.  He  was  there  for  his  own  trait- 
orous purpose ;  and  he  showed  the  light  to  scare 
away  all  prying  men." 

They  turned  on  the  speaker.  They  knew  him 
to  have  been  once  a  scribe  in  the  bazaar  and  to 
have  read  many  books. 

"How  dost  thou  know?" 

"  Have  ye  never  heard  of  the  chronicles," 
went  on  the  scribe,  "  which  say  that  there  was  a 
subterraneous  tunnel  between  the  old  palace  and 
the  cavern  beneath  the  tower — along  which  the 
conqueror  who  built  the  tower  would  carry  away 
his  victims  and  immure  them  in  the  cavern? 
Indeed,  many  centuries  ago  when  the  old  palace 
was  destroyed  in  a  siege,  the  entrance  to  the 
51 


gallery  was  covered  up  by  the  ruins,  and  its  very 
existence  forgotten  by  the  people. 

"  But  Rama  Krishna,  being  a  man  of  learn- 
ing," continued  the  scribe  with  some  pride  in  his 
own  knowledge,  "  had  read  the  chronicles,  and 
knew  about  the  buried  tunnel.  For  some  secret 
motive  he  has  the  cause  of  Narayan  Lai  at  heart ; 
perchance  his  own  past  history  is  in  some  mys- 
terious manner  connected  with  that  of  the  youth ; 
how,  I  may  yet  learn. 

"Thus,  as  soon  as  he  heard  from  the  guards 
of  the  king's  resolve  to  try  the  youth  upon  the 
Tower  of  Victory,  he  understood  the  nature  of 
the  ordeal.  In  the  time  intervening  between 
the  king's  resolve  and  the  actual  trial,  he  had 
secretly  visited  the  ruins  by  night,  dug  up  the 
entrance  to  the  gallery,  and  entered  the  vault. 
There  he  had  prepared  a  communication  between 
the  roof  of  the  vault  and  the  foot  of  the  stair- 
case in  the  tower ;  and,  placing  a  board  over  the 
opening,  he  had  carefully  covered  it  over  with 
loose  sand. 

"The  rest  was  simple  enough.     When  near 


the  very  top  of  the  tower,  Narayan  Lai  seemed 
to  liave  disappeared  from  the  spectators'  gaze 
in  one  of  those  sudden  mists  that  often  form  at 
the  hour  of  sunset;  he  had  really  entered  the 
staircase  inside.  Meanwhile  his  friend  beneath 
had  boldly  opened  out  the  communication  to 
the  vault.  To  reach  it  was  the  work  of  a  minute. 

"The  foundations,  already  sunken  by  the 
leaning  of  the  tower,  had  been  further  under- 
mined by  Narayan  Lai's  friend.  And  whilst 
the  multitude  gaped  at  the  haze  over  the  pin- 
nacle, mistaking  a  ball  of  cloud  for  a  turbaned 
head,  the  two  men  beneath  worked  frantically 
with  crowbars  and  levers.  As  the  tower  bent 
to  the  west,  they  ran  into  the  gallery  north- 
wards for  shelter;  as  it  groaned  to  the  east, 
they  ran  out  and  overthrew  a  few  more  stones. 

"  Thus  the  oscillations  grew  wider  and  wider. 
When  at  last  the  tower  came  crashing  upon  the 
earth,  they  fled  into  the  tunnel,  and  escaped  to 
the  ruins  of  the  old  palace  at  the  back  of  the 
king's  dais.  And  whilst  yet  the  multitude  were 
intent  upon  the  affairs  in  front,  they  emerged 
53 


Slj?    lUr&iri    nf    fly*    (gufcrf 

from  the  ruins  and  mingled  with  the  throng. 
Thus  fell  the  tower,  my  brothers." 

"But  how  dost  thou  know?"  they  asked  him 
again,  believing  naught  of  what  he  had  said. 

For  an  answer  the  scribe  brought  out  from 
his  bosom  a  crumpled  palm-leaf  upon  which 
were  written  these  strange  words: 

"  The  instrument  of  the  gods  awaits  thee. 
In  the  hour  of  trial  await  him.  Upon  the  pin- 
nacle lies  death;  beneath  the  sand  life.  Watch 
and  hope." 

"  I  visited  the  vault  this  night,  and  found  the 
message  there.  As  the  two  men  worked  in  fren- 
zied haste  at  the  foundations  of  the  tower,  this 
fell  out  from  one  of  them — which,  I  cannot  tell." 

But  they  eyed  him  in  open  suspicion.  "  Thou 
art  a  scribe — and  couldst  have  written  it 
thyself!"  Then  the  scribe  put  his  lips  to  the 
hookah,  and  held  his  peace — till  one  by  one  they 
left  him. 

But  one  remained — he  that  wore  his  turban 
over  his  ear.  "  Brother,  7  believe  thee,"  he 
54 


whispered  into  his  ear.  "  And  in  proof  shall 
buy  the  message  of  thee  with  this  gold." 

And  going  out  forthwith,  he  straightened  out 
the  palm-leaf  and  read  it  anew.  Then  he  took 
out  a  jewelled  stiletto  from  under  his  cloak, 
wrapped  the  leaf  around  it,  and  placed  the  two 
in  his  girdle. 

"One  more  chain  have  I  around  thee,  my 
pretty  bird,"  he  muttered  between  his  teeth. 
"  Thou  shalt  yet  meet  thy  doom.  Dost  thou 
serve  thy  mistress  and  her  lover?  Then  their 
fate  shall  be  thine — after  I  have  feasted  myself 
on  thee !  .  .  .  Curse  him!  For  seventeen  years 
have  I  watched  him,  not  realising  that  the  cub 
knew  of  the  father  that  had  begotten  him;  else 
I  had  struck  him  down  a  dozen  times.  Now  the 
cub  is  full-grown — and  claims  to  be  the  lion's 
whelp!  .  .  .  But  five  more  trials  has  he.  If 
he  escapes  the  gods  that  rule  his  destiny,  he 
shall  not  the  demons ! " 

For,  if  in  Rama  Krishna  Narayan  Lai  had  a 
hidden  friend,  in  this  man  he  had  a  secret  enemy 
— a  relentless  foe  who  sought  the  life  of  the 
55 


youth  since  the  moment  he  had  so  daringly  put 
forth  his  claim  to  royal  birth.  If  he  escaped 
his  master's  wrath  and  passed  triumphant 
through  the  perilous  ordeals,  he  was  yet  in 
danger  from  this  hidden  foe — this  assassin's 
dagger  or  his  poison  cup. 

"But  tell  me,"  the  Great  King  asked  of 
Story-teller,  "how  thinkest  thou  Narayan  Lai 
escaped  the  peril  of  the  tower  ?  " 

The  Story-teller  bowed  his  head  to  the  ground. 

"  By  the  will  of  Parameshwar,  O  Light  of  the 
Universe!"  he  murmured. 

And  I,  the  faithful  chronicler  of  the  Great 
King  listening  from  the  other  side  of  the  couch, 
can  bear  testimony  to  the  truth  of  the  Story- 
teller's words,  O  best  beloved  readers.  It  was 
indeed  some  supernatural  agency  that  enabled 
Narayan  to  escape  this  peril.  Perhaps  he  was 
given  some  occult  power  by  which  he  altered  the 
vision  of  the  multitude — making  them  magnify 
into  a  rope  a  slender  thread  that  he  had  sent  out 
from  his  mouth;  and,  as  Rama  Krishna  said, 
56 


®If?    Uer&iri    nf    tl|*    (gnfca 

the  multitude  imagined  many  things  besides, 
Do  you  not  know,  O  best  beloved,  that  a  marvel- 
lous wonder-worker  like  Narayan  has  power  to 
make  us  see  and  hear  and  feel — without  eyes, 
without  ears,  without  senses — in  our  minds  alone? 
Have  you  not  heard  of  the  other  great  won- 
der-worker who  cast  up  a  rope  in  the  air?  The 
rope  went  up  unwinding  its  coils  till  it  suddenly 
came  to  a  stop  with  a  jerk,  its  end  lost  in  a  kind 
of  mist!  Then  the  juggler's  son,  a  small  boy, 
climbed  up  the  rope,  till  he  too  vanished  in  the 
mist!  But  the  juggler  repeatedly  tugged  at 
the  rope,  muttering  mystic  words ;  and  the  boy's 
arm  came  down,  the  other  arm,  the  legs,  the 
headless  trunk,  the  head  itself  encircled  with  the 
end  of  the  rope.  Then  the  juggler  put  the 
pieces  together,  and  the  boy  came  back  to  life! 
And,  O  best  beloved,  if  you  have  not  heard  of 
this  marvel,  perhaps  you  have  of  the  one  placed 
on  record  in  a  State  paper  by  a  Chief  of  the 
Company  Bahadur.1  This  great  man  saw  a 

1  Lord  Cornwallis,   Governor-General  of  British   India 
under  the  East  India  Company. 

57 


©lj?    Vtrftirt    af    llj?    <&*&* 

juggler  cast  up  a  chain  in  the  air,  and  an 
elephant  climb  up  by  it  lost  from  sight!  Thus 
in  like  manner,  O  beloved,  could  Narayan  Lai 
deceive  the  vision  of  the  spectators. 

But  lest  you  ask  me:  why  did  not  Narayan 
Lai  flee  and  escape  altogether,  instead  of  pre- 
senting himself  to  his  master  and  thus  courting 
further  perils?  I  say  unto  you,  O  best  beloved, 
that  thereby  Narayan  would  have  proclaimed  his 
guilt  beyond  a  doubt — and  sealed  the  fate  of 
the  princess.  The  princess  was  upon  her  trial, 
no  less  than  Narayan  Lai.  Thus  he  submitted 
himself  to  a  new  ordeal  far  more  perilous  than 
this,  O  best  beloved. 

"  Tell  it  to  me,"  commanded  the  Great  King. 

"With  my  lips,  O  Delight  of  the  World," 
replied  the  Story-teller. 

And  thus  he  continued: 


58 


THE    WELL    OF    TEN    THOUSAND    SIGHS 

'NOW,  O  Son  of  the  Morning  Star, 
that  the  Well  of  Ten  Thousand 
Sighs  had  been  dry  since  the  days 
when  thy  fourteenth  ancestor  was 
yet  in  the  bosom  of  Brahma.  So  also  was  it 
dry  at  the  time  of  Narayan  Lai's  second  trial. 
It  was  a  large  excavation  near  the  edge  of  the 
jungle,  twenty  cubits  in  depth,  and  five  in  diame- 
ter. The  wall  inside  was  lined  with  solid  stones, 
and  the  bed  covered  with  a  layer  of  dried  leaves. 
There  was  a  legend  that  once  two  men  were 
in  love  with  the  some  woman;  the  rejected  one 
caught  the  other  unfairly,  killed  him,  and  threw 
his  body  into  the  dry  well. 

The  woman  came  to  the  well  and  wept  many 
tears  over  it  for  nine  days.     Then  the  gods, 
pleased  with  her  devotion,  worked  a  miracle. 
59 


®tje    Uerfciri    af    ttye    (8060 

On  the  evening  of  the  ninth  day  a  cry  was 
heard  from  the  bottom  of  the  well,  as  from  a  man 
suddenly  awakened  from  sleep. 

The  dead  one  had  come  back  to  life!  The 
tears  of  the  woman  had  fallen  upon  his  wounds 
and  healed  them;  her  many  sighs  had  breathed 
new  life  into  his  body.  That  was  the  legend ; 
hence  the  name  of  the  well.  There  are  many 
such  legends  in  the  land. 

The  multitude  came  to  the  well  bubbling  with 
expectation.  That  Narayan  Lai  should  fail  at 
the  second  trial  they  deemed  impossible;  and 
yet  its  exact  nature  they  could  not  guess.  The 
king  kept  his  secret  till  the  last  moment;  he 
intended  to  fit  the  ordeal  to  the  traditions  of 
the  well.  The  only  clue  to  his  design  lay, 
literally,  upon  the  mouth  of  the  well.  A  solid 
roof  of  stone  now  covered  it  over — all  but  a 
small  space  at  the  centre,  two  cubits  square.  A 
rope-ladder  was  visible  over  the  opening,  the 
end  fastened  to  a  post  at  the  side  of  the  well.  A 
group  of  masons  stood  by,  with  trowels  in  hand 
and  stones  and  mortar  at  their  feet. 
60 


®l?e    TBUrftirt    nf    tlj0    (Safca 

"  Narayan  Lai,"  spoke  the  king  from  a  raised 
dai's  before  the  well,  "  thou  didst  last  face  death 
in  the  air  above.  My  judgment  is,  thou  shalt 
face  death  again  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth." 

A  low  murmur  broke  from  the  gathering 
crowd,  but  whether  of  approbation  or  the 
reverse  the  actors  in  the  drama  knew  not.  But 
a  sudden  groan  from  the  background  revealed 
the  presence  of  someone  there  who  realised  the 
fearful  import  of  these  words. 

"  Thou  shalt  descend  into  this  well,  as  thou 
art  now — without  food,  without  appliances  of 
any  kind.  The  mouth  of  the  well  shall  be 
covered  up,  so  that  not  a  particle  of  air  may  get 
in  or  come  out." 

He  paused  awhile  to  note  the  effect  of  his 
words. 

How  long?  how  long?  That  was  the  one  cry 
in  every  throat  that  struggled  to  give  utterance, 
yet  dared  not. 

"  For  nine  days  shalt  thou  be  within,"  calmly 
concluded  the  king.  "  On  the  evening  of  the 
ninth  day  the  well  shall  be  opened,  and  what 
61 


©I;*    JTer&irt    af    il|*    (60^0 

remains  of  thee  shall  be  brought  to  light  again. 
I  have  spoken." 

Narayan  Lai  gasped  for  breath  at  these  cruel 
words — as  if  already  he  beat  the  poisoned  air 
with  his  impotent  hands,  twenty  cubits  beneath 
the  earth.  Already  he  tore  with  his  fingers  at 
the  solid  walls  in  frenzied  madness;  already  he 
felt  his  swollen  veins  bursting  from  his  throb- 
bing temples ;  already 

So  thought  the  stupefied  multitude.  Narayan 
Lai  himself  wasted  no  time  in  vain  regrets. 
He  had  but  a  few  minutes  to  decide  upon  his 
method  of  escape — if  any. 

Even  when  he  had  determined  upon  it — one 
appalling  in  daring,  of  fearful  peril  in  execu- 
tion— he  did  not  feel  confident  of  ultimate  suc- 
cess. No  man  but  his  reputed  father  had  tried 
that  method  and  had  not  succumbed;  even  he 
but  once  in  his  life. 

Narayan  Lai  would  do  likewise  now — in  that 

lay  his  only  hope.     He  had  learnt  all  that  his 

great  master  could  teach  him ;  but  this  matter 

was  not  one  of  mere  teaching.    It  was  primarily 

62 


®lje    Uerfciri    af    tlje    (Sofca 

dependent    upon    the    personal   fitness    of    the 
human  subject  himself. 

He  prayed  the  gods  to  grant  him  this  fitness. 
On  the  one  hand  was  certain  death,  an  agonis- 
ing death.  On  the  other  an  equally  certain 
death,  if  the  method  failed;  a  bare  chance  of 
escape,  if  it  succeeded.  He  resolved  to  accept 
that  chance. 

"  Thy  words,  O  Heaven-born,  are  the  words 
of  wisdom.  Let  it  be  as  thou  hast  commanded. 
But  I  beg  a  single  favour." 

He  hesitated  a  moment  before  naming  it.  If 
his  real  purpose  were  betrayed,  there  was  no 
hope  for  him. 

"  In  the  temple  of  Kali  there  is  a  band  of 
holy  men ;  ascetics,  saunyasis,  and  byragis.  I 
am  a  novice  in  their  brotherhood — to  my  shame 
unavowedly  as  yet." 

There  was  a  cry  of  wonder  from  the  multi- 
tude around.  The  saunyasis  and  byragis  be- 
longed to  the  severest  religious  order.  They 
were  reputed  to  possess  preternatural  powers 
that  were  given  to  no  fleshly  men. 
63 


®If?    Herbiri    nf    ttfe    (ga&a 

"  It  is  a  rule  of  the  order,"  he  continued  in  a 
slow  and  measured  tone,  as  if  feeling  his  way 
doubtingly,  "  that  when  one  of  the  brethren, 
even  if  only  a  novice,  is  about  to  die,  the  rest 
must  come  to  minister  to  his  last  wants — if  they 
be  so  permitted.  I  beg  that  they  now  be  asked 
to  come  to  minister  to  me." 

Then  noting  the  look  of  incredulity  upon  the 
king's  face,  he  hastily  added: 

"  If  thou  dost  fear  any  trickery,  let  me  go 
down  to  the  well  first;  then  let  five  of  the 
brethren  come  and  follow  me.  There  let  them 
attend  to  my  wants  for  such  length  of  time  as 
thou  dost  allow.  They  will  come  up  again  one 
by  one  before  thee,  leaving  me  beneath — or  what 
remains  of  me." 

This  he  seemed  to  add  as  an  after-thought. 
Perhaps  it  meant  more  than  anyone  there  sus- 
pected. 

"  Then  seal  up  the  well,  and  leave  me  to  my 
fate.  That  is  my  prayer." 

There  was  a  ring  of  finality,  of  resignation, 
of  renunciation,  in  the  last  words  that  some- 

64 


©If?    Uerhirt    nf    llf?    (gaits 

how  conveyed  to  his  hearers  that  he  deemed  this 
no  simple  ordeal — that  he  knew  his  fate  to  lie 
upon  the  knees  of  the  gods.  If  needs  be,  he 
was  preparing  to  meet  his  doom. 

The  king  waved  his  hand  in  assent.  The  last 
prayer  of  a  dying  man  could  not  be  unheeded, 
even  by  a  king.  And  the  religious  ordinances 
of  India  are  above  royal  whims. 

A  hot- footed  messenger  hastened  to  the  city 
at  hand,  to  bring  the  brethren  from  the  temple 
of  Kali. 

Narayan  Lai  stood  motionless  awhile  by  the 
wellside,  with  hands  crossed  over  his  breast.  His 
lips  moved  swiftly  in  words  that  no  man  heard ; 
yet  all  vaguely  guessed  that  they  were  at  once 
a  passionate  appeal  and  a  last  farewell. 

Then  lifting  his  hands  aloft,  he  swept  them 
across  the  horizon  in  a  universal  embrace — and 
springing  to  the  ladder,  quickly  vanished  from 
sight.  A  groan  of  apprehension  burst  from  the 
populace — of  pity,  of  censure,  of  rebellion.  A 
cloud  of  despair  hung  over  the  scene  like  a  black 
pall. 

65 


®lf?    $?r&trl    of    if;?    (gflfca 

The  clang  of  metal  broke  the  spell.  A  tall 
gaunt  figure  emerged  from  the  crowd.  His 
whitened  beard  swept  from  his  naked  breast, 
his  matted  locks  hung  down  to  his  shoulders, 
unkempt,  unwashed.  A  saffron-dyed  loin  cloth 
was  all  he  wore.  A  brasier  of  incense  burned 
with  a  bluish  flame  in  his  left  hand,  a  pair  of 
tongs  clanked  in  his  right. 

He  was  the  guru,  the  high  priest,  of  the  saun- 
yasis. 

Behind  him  came  four  others,  all  alike  in 
garb  and  mien.  Even  their  passionless  faces 
betokened  the  same  rigid  discipline  that  had  de- 
stroyed all  self  and  individuality  in  each,  and 
the  same  subtle  internal  force  that  worked  in 
each  to  subdue  the  body. 

The  high  priest  bowed  to  the  king  silently. 
Swiftly,  silently,  he  went  down  the  well.  His 
brethren  followed;  silent  spectres  all,  encircled 
in  the  pale  smoke  that  hung  in  the  air  like  a 
fantastic  will-o'-the-wisp. 

"  Hr-r-r-ram!  Hr-r-r-ram!  Hr^r-r-ram! " 
A  faint  monotone  was  heard  from  the  well.  A 


&If*    Vrrftirt    af    tlf*    dnha 

cloud  of  incense  floated  up  to  its  mouth.     Some 
strange  ritual  was  being  enacted  beneath. 

"  Om!  Om!  Om!  "  It  was  a  deep  guttural 
voice  that  suddenly  burst  forth  in  a  fury  of 
fanaticism — louder,  louder,  louder. 

"  Praise  to  thee,  0  Bhugwati! 
Divine  Chamanda,  dwelling  among  graves, 
Bearing  a  skull,  borne  on  a  car, 
Drawn  by  spirits,  0  Mother  of  black  nights!  " 

A  vague  indefinable  thrill  swept  over  the 
hearts  of  the  multitude.  They  remembered  the 
power  of  Kali,  the  dread  goddess  who  ruled  the 
last  destiny  of  man  with  absolute  sway  so  that 
other  deities  stood  back  impotent.  And  these 
were  her  favoured  votaries  calling  upon  her  in 
supplication,  in  exultation,  in  ecstasy. 

"  Be  propitious!    Be  propitious! 
Quickly  accomplish  our  desires. 
By  thy  necklace  of  beads  and  its  serpent  brood 
Quit  this  mortal  clay,  0  Mother  of  Death! 
Hr-r-r-ram!     Hr-r-r-ram!     Hr-r-r-ram! " 
67 


Slf?    Vtrftirt    0f    tlje    (6060 

A  chorus  of  voices  beneath  took  up  that 
frenzied  cry,  "  Hr-r-r-ram!  Hr-r-r-ram!  Hr- 
r-r-ram!  "  Then  suddenly  all  was  silent  as  the 
city  of  the  dead. 

One  by  one  returned  to  earth  the  saunyasis, 
the  high  priest  at  their  head.  With  burning 
brasiers  and  clanking  tongs  they  filed  past  the 
king — that  he  might  see  their  faces  and  count 
their  number — and  left  the  scene. 

Then  the  masons  placed  two  stout  boards, 
that  together  filled  up  the  opening  and  a  foot 
beyond  on  every  side.  The  join  of  the  boards 
they  covered  with  shellac ;  and  the  king,  coming 
down  from  his  dais,  made  the  impress  of  his 
signet-ring  over  it  in  three  places — the  middle 
and  the  ends.  The  boards  could  not  be  lifted 
again  without  breaking  the  seals. 

Covering  the  seals  and  the  whole  join  of  the 
boards  with  a  hollow  hemi-cylinder  of  brass, 
the  masons  quickly  built  up  a  wall  over  the  well 
three  cubits  high.  A  dozen  guards  took  up  their 
post  around  it,  to  keep  watch  by  turns. 

"And  you  shall  answer  with  your  heads," 
68 


Xtr&Ut    af    tlf?    (Snba 

warned  the  king  as  he  rose  to  go,  "  if  so  much  as 
a  scratch  is  made  upon  that  wall." 

It  was  the  seventh  night  after  the  entomb- 
ment ;  a  night  of  inky  darkness,  moonless,  star- 
less ;  for  a  black  cloud  hung  over  the  sky.  An 
intermittent  gust  of  wind  served  but  to  carry 
the  weird  echoes  of  the  neighbouring  jungle. 

The  jungle  seemed  all  alive  at  that  hour.  The 
distant  baying  of  the  grey-wolf  mingled  with 
the  dismal  laugh  of  the  hyena.  The  faint  cry 
of  the  nilghau  floated  on  the  breeze.  Occa- 
sionally a  deep  ominous  sound,  like  rolling 
thunder  in  the  far  distance,  arose  above  the 
rest.  Then  all  other  beasts  hid  their  heads  on 
the  bosom  of  the  earth  and  were  silent. 

Four  men  sat  by  a  fire  beneath  the  peepul- 
tree  that  hung  its  furthest  branch  over  the 
well.  They  sat  cowering  together,  as  if  the  air 
was  cold  and  chilly — which  it  was  not.  Their 
lances  lay  in  their  hands,  but  their  eyes  cast 
fugitive  glances  at  fitful  shadows  among  the 
trees. 

69 


©tje    Herfcirt    nf    tlf*    (Safca 

"  Brothers  !  "  whispered  one  under  his  breath, 
gazing  vacantly  into  the  impenetrable  darkness, 
"  I  thought  I  heard — a  sound — a  rustle !  " 

The  others  peered  beneath  their  brows, 
handling  their  lances  nervously.  For  full  seven 
breaths  they  waited,  with  heads  bent  low  over 
the  ground — then  sighed  back  in  relief. 

"  I  am  afraid,  my  brothers,"  spoke  again  the 
first  guard ;  "  afraid  of  the  unseen,  the  un- 
human,  the  unearthly."  And  he  shivered  in 
terror  as  his  restless  eyes  fell  upon  the  well. 

They  felt  that  something  was  happening 
there,  of  which  they  had  no  understanding; 
something  mysterious,  intangible,  inexplicable. 
Narayan  Lai  must  surely  be  dead  by  this  time — 
his  body  denied  the  funeral  obsequies.  His  soul 
could  find  no  rest  till  then. 

No  rest !  Floating  in  the  air — around — above 
— beneath ! 

Suddenly  a  dim  whiteness  stood  on  the  other 
side  of  the  well ;  a  faint,  ethereal  cloud  seen  for 
the  fraction  of  a  second  in  the  reflected  light. 

"  Radha  Kissen!  RadTia  Kissen! "  cried  out 
70 


Sfije    Uer&iri    af    tlf*    (gafca 

the   guards   in   invocation.      For   this   was   no 
earthly  foe. 

"  Go  in  peace,  O  Fearful  One !  We  are  poor 
men,  the  servants  of  thy  servant !  " 

But  the  nebulous  vision  had  vanished  from 
sight ;  sunk  into  the  earth.  Yet  an  answer 
came  from  the  opposite  side,  a  breaking  twig, 
a  soft  footfall 

"  Stand  back,  or  I  transfix  thee ! "  cried 
aloud  one  of  the  guards,  springing  from  the 
ground.  This  at  least  was  a  material  foe. 

But  scarce  the  words  had  escaped  his  lips, 
when  a  tall  figure  stood  in  their  midst.  His 
head  was  shaven,  his  naked  breast  and  arms 
scarred  with  self-inflicted  wounds.  He  smiled 
gravely  as  he  noted  their  gaze  of  terror. 

"  Let  me  sit  by  this  fire  awhile,  my  friends.  I 
have  walked  far  to-night." 

It  was  the  pundit,  the  philosopher.  They 
knew  his  habits  and  his  midnight  vigils. 

"  Tell  us  something  about  that,"  they 
whispered  with  bated  breath,  casting  furtive 
glances  at  the  well. 

71 


®fje    Vtriiirt    0f    ttje    (Snfca 

"  That  is  easily  told."  He  spoke  in  a  low 
husky  voice  that  sent  a  thrill  into  their  hearts. 
"  According  to  the  books  the  air  in  that  well 
would  begin  to  be  poisonous  in  an  hour;  at  the 
end  of  a  day  the  man  in  it  would  lose  conscious- 
ness— even  as  a  drowning  man  does  the  third 
time  he  sinks.  Then  soon  after  he  would  die. 
Narayan  Lai  must  long  be  dead  now." 

He  filled  their  minds  with  much  thought  that 
was  not  there  before.  He  spoke  of  disen- 
tombed spirits  haunting  the  scenes  of  their 
earthly  tragedies ;  of  grim  spectres  returning 
to  earth  to  finish  the  work  they  had  left  undone. 

Suddenly  a  strange  sound  caught  their  ear — 
a  sigh,  a  sob.  It  came  louder,  in  a  paroxysm 
of  grief. 

The  white  cloud  appeared  again,  quivered 
for  a  moment  beyond  the  well,  then  quickly 
vanished  in  the  gloom. 

"  The  Woman  of  the  Well !  "  gasped  someone 
in  blank  terror. 

They  sat  cowering  by  the  fire.  They 
clutched  at  their  hearts  and  caught  their  breath 
72 


for  fear  of  arousing  the  vision  anew.  Long 
they  waited. 

Then  gradually  they  felt  the  sounds  of  the 
night  die  away.  The  wind  above  died  away, 
and  the  jungle  relapsed  into  silence.  All  earth 
slept. 

But  the  pundit,  the  philosopher,  had  vanished 
likewise.  When  or  how,  they  knew  not. 

Then  the  fear  of  the  king's  command  came  into 
their  hearts.  Four  crouching  figures,  holding 
firebrands  to  illumine  their  path,  crept  to  the 
well. 

"  Here,  O  brothers,  here !  "  whispered  one, 
pointing  to  the  back  of  the  wall  built  over  the 
well. 

It  was  wet,  the  space  of  a  man's  hand. 

"  The  falling  dew ! "  exclaimed  another.  But 
the  space  all  around  was  dry. 

"Tears!  A  woman's  tears!"  answered  a 
deep  resonant  voice  from  the  darkness  of  night. 


THE     AWAKENING     OF     THE     DEAD 


multitude  gathered  at  the  well  on 
the  evening  of  the  ninth  day  of 
Narayan  Lai's  entombment.  His 
master  sat  upon  the  dai's,  cold  and 
silent  and  austere.  He  sat  as  judge,  not  merely 
as  king. 

The  populace  may  have  wondered  what 
Narayan  Lai's  crime  could  have  been  that  he 
should  have  deserved  so  cruel  a  fate.  But  in 
the  king's  heart  there  was  now  one  only  desire: 
to  know  the  truth.  Doubt  like  a  cankerworm 
had  been  eating  into  his  vitals  since  that  day  he 
had  discovered  Narayan  in  the  garden.  The 
youth's  obvious  crime  of  making  secret  love  to 
the  princess  might  alone  have  merited  instant 
death.  But  now  a  subtler  doubt  tortured  the 
soul  of  the  king.  .  .  .  Verily,  the  Princess 
74 


Sltje    Her&iri    nf    tlf?    <S0&a 

Devala  also  was  upon  her  trial ;  and  if  Narayan 
Lai  failed,  her  fate  also  was  sealed! 

Then  like  a  soothing  rain  came  to  his  parched 
heart  the  hope  that  perchance  the  youth  was  not 
guilty  of  the  blacker  crime:  that  indeed  he  was 
of  Kshattric  blood!  The  joyful  revulsion  of 
feeling  begotten  by  that  possibility  surged 
through  his  heart.  He  who  would  have  slain 
the  youth  with  his  own  hand  that  fatal  day  now 
prayed  the  gods  to  prove  his  innocence.  Ever 
and  anon  he  looked  at  the  sun  hanging  over  the 
tree-tops ;  it  seemed  to  hang  there  for  ever,  and 
never  to  sink. 

Yet  he  waited  the  full  allotted  time;  for  the 
verdict  of  the  gods  must  be  made  manifest 
though  the  heavens  should  fall.  He  almost 
held  his  breath  as  the  last  ray  of  the  sun 
quivered  over  the  jungle.  Not  till  it  had  van- 
ished from  sight  did  he  raise  his  hand  for  the 
appointed  signal. 

Swiftly  the  masons  fell  upon  the  wall.     Stone 
after  stone  was  loosened  on  every  side  and  cast 
to  earth,  till  the  boards  appeared. 
75 


©If?    Herfcirl    0f    itfe    (gnfta 

With  a  strange  calmness  that  belied  his 
hastening  breath,  the  king  came  down  from 
the  dai's. 

The  seals  were  unbroken. 

With  a  vague  indefinable  emotion — half  joy, 
half  fear — he  resumed  his  seat;  joy  that  the 
youth  was  there  to  meet  his  trial,  fear  that  the 
judgment  should  pronounce  his  guilt.  The 
boards  were  raised  and  flung  aside. 

A  dim  white  vapour  issued  from  the  opened 
well  and  mingled  with  the  air. 

A  stifled  groan  was  heard  from  someone  in 
the  crowd. 

"His  spirit!" 

The  multitude  shivered  in  sudden  fright.  In 
that  supreme  moment  of  suspense  it  swayed  at 
the  mercy  of  each  passing  thought. 

"  The  smoke  from  the  incense,"  explained  a 
sage  from  the  background. 

But  the  masons  quickly  lowered  a  rope-ladder 

into  the  well.     Four  strong  men  descended,  the 

strongest  first.     As  the  last  head  disappeared 

the  populace  ceased  to  breathe.     Each  counted 

76 


his  throbbing  pulse  for  the  twentieth  time — 
then  felt  it  die  away  in  a  spasm. 

A  sudden  cry  arose  from  the  bottom  of  the 
well  like  a  distant  echo,  a  mere  inarticulate 
gurgle. 

"He  is  not  there!  He  has  escaped!"  called 
aloud  a  voice  from  the  throng. 

But  again  the  cry  arose  from  the  well. 

"  Throw  down  a  blanket  and  a  cord." 

Five  minutes  after,  the  tightening  ladder  told 
the  world  that  they  were  ascending.  Perchance 
the  post  outside,  to  which  it  was  fastened, 
groaned  more  with  some  added  weight.  Per- 
chance that  was  but  the  fancy  begotten  of  doubt 
and  fear.  But  they  were  long  in  coming,  and 
seemed  never  to  come. 

The  first  man  appeared,  bending  down;  the 
second.  A  long  bundle  came,  pushed  up  from 
beneath  by  the  others. 

The  bundle  they  silently  laid  at  the  feet  of 
the  king.  But  none  dared  to  open  it.  It  was 
rigid  and  inert. 

"  Open  it ! "  bade  the  king  in  a  husky  whisper. 
77 


®lf?    Berfcirl    nf    tlje    (Sn&s 

Slowly  they  unrolled  the  blanket. 

As  a  sullen  sea  that  stands  suspended  a 
moment,  then  hisses  to  foam  over  the  breakers, 
the  human  throng  relaxed  from  its  tension  with 
a  sudden  gasp. 

"He  is  dead!" 

"Dead!" 

Then  all  bowed  down  their  heads,  and  none 
found  words  to  speak. 

Narayan  Lai  lay  there;  his  eyes  closed;  his 
jaws  set;  his  hands  pressed  to  his  body  on 
either  side,  flat  and  distended.  His  limbs  were 
cold.  Yet  no  sign  of  pain  was  upon  his  face.  The 
awful  agony  of  suffocation  was  not  there.  The 
slow  torture  of  poisoned  air  and  bursting  veins 
was  not  there.  Rather,  his  countenance  was 
calm  and  serene,  as  of  one  in  a  peaceful  sleep. 

"  His  brethren  killed  him  first,"  spoke  some 
wise  man  in  the  crowd,  "and  saved  him  from 
pain." 

"  No,  O  foolish  one !     His  brethren  are  here 
to  belie  thy  words!"     It  was  a  deep  sepulchral 
voice  from  the  midst  of  the  throng. 
78 


®b?    Utrftirt    0f    tfte    ®nba 

With  clanking  tongs  the  high  priest  of  the 
temple  of  Kali  stepped  forth  to  the  dai's  and 
bowed  to  the  king.  His  four  brethren  stood  by 
him,  two  on  either  side.  Five  burning  brasiers 
sent  up  five  thin  lines  of  blue  smoke  curling  to 
the  heavens. 

"  If  he  be  dead,  O  Son  of  Justice,  I  claim  his 
body  for  its  proper  rites.  But  I  and  my 
brethren  will  see  first  if  he  be  truly  dead." 

The  high  priest  bent  low  over  the  still  figure. 
He  seemed  to  search  for  some  mystic  sign  that 
no  man  could  divine.  And  yet  he  never  touched 
the  body. 

Arising,  he  carried  the  body  in  the  blanket 
seven  cubits  from  the  dais,  and  paused  a 
moment  beside  it.  His  left  hand  he  stretched 
forth  till  the  brasier  of  incense  was  on  a  level 
with  his  head ;  with  his  right  he  rapidly  circled 
the  tongs  three  times  over  the  blue  flames,  his 
lips  moving  in  inaudible  prayer.  Then  with  a 
clank  he  brought  them  down  to  his  side,  and 
began  to  walk  with  measured  tread  around  the 
body ;  his  brethren  following. 
79 


Their  lips  broke  forth  in  song,  a  weird  mono- 
tone. Each  cast  a  handful  of  incense  from  his 
girdle  into  the  brasier.  Five  columns  of  smoke 
ascended  the  sky,  curling  round  and  round  with 
the  motion.  The  cloud  began  to  thicken.  A 
canopy  of  white  hung  over  the  circling  men. 

The  shades  of  tropical  night  were  falling 
fast,  and  their  dim  shadows  moved  as  dark 
spectres  against  the  darker  landscapes.  Louder 
and  louder  grew  the  song. 

" Om!     Om!     Om! 
0  Thou  that  rulest  the  life  of  man, 
Be  propitious!  be  propitious! 
Quickly  accomplish  our  desires. 
Enter  here;  enter,  enter! 
Tread,  tread;  dance,  dance! 
By  thy  necklace  of  beads  and  its  serpent 

brood. 

Enter  this  mortal  clay,  0  Mother  of  Life! 
Hr-r-r-ram!     Hr-r-r-ram!     Hr-r-r-ram!" 

Thrice  the  high  priest  circumambulated  the 
rigid  body,  thrice  he  waved  the  eddying  incense 
80 


Vrrftiri    of    tlje    (6nba 

over  his   matted  head,   thrice  he   stopped   and 
kissed  the  clammy  brow. 

The  motion  grew  more  rapid.  From  Om  to 
Hr-r-r-ram  they  repeated  the  invocation,  each 
time  faster  and  faster,  quickening  their  step 
with  the  song. 

And  now  the  cloud  of  incense  filled  the  air. 
The  canopy  of  white  descended  and  shut  out 
the  body  from  view.  Only  a  dim  haze  of  mov- 
ing forms  could  the  spectators  see. 

Gradually  the  circle  widened  out;  the  space 
of  a  man's  length  divided  the  priests  from  the 
body.  Yet  so  swift  was  the  motion  now  and  so 
thick  the  cloud  of  incense,  that  the  body  was 
but  visible  in  fitful  glimpses.  Wilder,  wilder 
grew  the  song;  it  was  one  ceaseless  torrent  of 
mingled  words,  or  frenzied  invocation.  A 
strange  sensation  crept  over  the  multitude  near- 
est the  priests — a  deep  oppressive  feeling  of 
something  descending  upon  them,  something 
invisible  yet  ponderable ;  as  if  they  were  being 
gradually  submerged  in  a  fluid  denser  than  the 
surrounding  air. 

81 


Was  this  but  a  dream?  Verily,  the  scene 
before  them  seemed  in  some  vague  indefinable 
manner  to  have  become  unreal,  unnatural — as  if 
the  priests  and  the  body  were  no  longer  actual 
objects  before  their  material  eyes,  but  rather  the 
coinage  of  their  brains.  For  they  felt  even  as 
the  sleeper  does  when  he  is  slowly  awakening  to 
consciousness  and  hearing  the  real  sounds  around 
him — and  yet  confusing  them  with  the  sounds 
of  his  dream.  The  odour  of  the  incense  filled 
their  nostrils  and  mounted  to  their  brains;  the 
curling  smoke  cast  a  haze  and  obscured  in  out- 
line, but  magnified  in  size,  the  things  they  saw 
beyond  it.  Yet  all  was  uncertain :  one  moment 
their  consciousness  assured  them  that  they  saw 
and  felt  and  heard  in  very  truth ;  the  next  that 
this  was  but  a  picture  on  their  minds.  Thus 
felt  the  multitude  nearest  the  priests. 

Suddenly  the  priests  stood  still.  The  brasiers 
they  placed  on  the  ground  between  their  feet. 
With  hands  stretched  forth,  palms  downwards, 
they  pointed  at  Narayan  Lai's  body — the  fingers 
opened  wide.  Ten  sloping  hands  pointed  at  the 
82 


SUf*    Uerfcirt    af    ilf*    (gn&a 

body,  the  arms  held  rigid  and  straight;  the 
high  priest  at  Narayan's  head,  his  brethren  two 
on  either  side. 

Slowly,  almost  imperceptibly,  the  high  priest 
raised  his  hands,  his  arms  still  held  rigid  and 
straight  from  the  shoulders.  Likewise  his 
brethren.  So  slow  was  the  motion  that  the  mul- 
titude scarce  knew  that  the  hands  had  lifted — 
save  that,  gazing  again,  they  saw  that  the  slope 
of  the  arms  had  altered ;  a  while  ago  the  finger 
tips  were  level  with  the  waist,  now  they  were 
almost  as  high  as  the  breast.  And  yet  the 
priests'  outstretched  arms  still  pointed  at  Nara- 
yan  LaVs  body! 

What  marvel  was  this  ?  A  second  glance,  and 
the  wondrous  fact  dawned  upon  the  multitude. 
The  youth's  inert  form  that  had  lain  motionless 
upon  the  ground  was  now  suspended  in  the  air, 
a  cubit  above  the  earth !  Rigid  as  a  wooden  log, 
it  hung  in  the  air  as  if  buoyed  up  in  some  invisi- 
ble fluid — or  held  suspended  by  invisible  lines  of 
force.  For,  below  it,  above  it,  and  all  around 
it,  the  multitude  could  see  naught  but  a  dim 
83 


haze  of  incense;  yet  between  the  priests'  hands 
and  the  floating  body  there  was  three  cubits' 
space  and  no  material  connection  to  bridge  the 
gulf. 

The  body  swayed  gently  in  the  air,  quivered 
as  if  wavering  in  doubt,  held  still  a  moment — 
then  began  to  sink,  slowly,  scarce  perceptibly ; 
not  in  spasmodic  jerks,  but  with  an  even  and 
regular  motion.  But  this  the  multitude  saw, 
and  marvelled:  the  haze  of  incense  that  had 
settled  on  the  ground  beneath  the  body  whilst 
it  was  in  the  air  now  began  to  disperse  quickly 
in  countless  wisps  that  licked  the  ground  out- 
wards all  around,  then  shot  up  straight  in  the 
air — even  as  a  gust  of  wind  from  above  will 
cause  a  fire  to  break  up  into  a  thousand  tongues 
of  flame  that  will  lick  the  ground  all  around, 
then  rise  up  straight  beyond  the  reach  of  the 
column  of  wind.  .  .  . 

And  now  the  youth's  lifeless  form  lay  again 

upon    the    ground,    motionless    and    still.     The 

priests'   wild   weird   song   rose   anew   upon   the 

evening  air.     The  cloud  of  incense  curled  up- 

84 


wards  from  the  brasiers  in  their  uplifted  hands. 
Swifter  and  swifter  grew  the  motion  as  they 
circled  round  the  prostrate  form. 

Suddenly  a  cry  of  wonder  broke  from  the 
multitude  above  the  sound  of  ritual. 

"  The  guru  has  vanished ! " 

Four  moving  forms  could  just  be  counted 
amidst  the  haze. 

"  I  see  him ! "  cried  some  far-seeing,  or  imagi- 
native, by-stander.  "  He  is  lying  on  the  blanket 
—beside  the  body  ! " 

"He  is  breathing  over  the  eyes  and  face!" 
whispered  another,  blest  with  still  better  vision 
or  better  fancy. 

The  multitude  around  took  up  the  contest, 
each  seeing  more  than  his  neighbour. 

"He  is  rubbing  his  hands  over  its  face  and 
breast " 

"  From  the  face  to  the  breast." 

"  He  breathes  anew  upon  the  body." 

"He  is  pressing  down  each  eyeball  with  his 
thumb." 

"  No !     He  is  opening  the  eyes ! " 
85 


That  instant  a  wild  passionate  cry  broke  from 
the  priests. 

"  Jail     Kali  Jail " 

Four  burning  brasiers  were  dashed  to  earth, 
sending  up  thick  columns  of  smoke  from  where 
they  fell.  With  a  shout  of  concentrated  frenzy, 
appeal,  exultation,  the  four  priests  cast  them- 
selves upon  the  ground. 

Shouting,  shrieking,  yelling,  "  Jail  Kali  Jail " 
five  men  arose,  lifting  the  prostrate  form  to  its 
feet.  Together  they  hurried  it  forward  towards 
the  dais — encircling  it  all  around,  so  that  no 
man  saw  if  they  carried  it  bodily  or  only  helped 
it  to  move. 

At  the  foot  of  the  dai's  the  four  priests  fell 
back  on  either  side,  leaving  the  guru  to  support 
the  form. 

"Behold,  O  Mirror  of  Truth,  the  man  that 
was  dead!" 

The  guru  thrust  it  forward  face  to  face  with 
the  king. 

For  a  moment  the  figure  lay  helpless  in  his 
arms — then  slowly  the  head  lifted.  The  right 
86 


"THE  GURU  THRUST  IT  FORWARD  FACE  TO  FACE 
WITH  THE  KING" 


©lie    Berfcirt    of    tfj?    (Sofca 

hand  went  up  mechanically  to  the  brow  and 
salaamed  to  the  king.  Then  the  head  fell  back 
to  the  bosom  and  lay  still. 

The  guru  released  his  hold,  and  cried  aloud: 

"  Speak,  O  brother !  Speak,  that  thou  dost 
live!" 

The  head  of  Narayan  Lai  went  up  anew,  so 
that  the  pressing  throng  now  saw  the  face.  It 
was  pale  and  haggard  and  emaciated,  and  lined 
with  deep  furrows  of  a  leaden  hue.  A  thick 
moisture  sat  upon  the  brow  and  ran  down  the 
cheeks. 

The  face  that  had  been  a  while  ago  calm  and 
serene  as  that  of  a  slumbering  child  was  now,  in 
the  awakening,  the  face  of  a  living  corpse. 

Slowly  the  eyes  opened  and  dilated.  Coldly, 
sternly,  they  gazed  upon  the  king.  With  a 
sudden  quiver  the  lips  parted. 

"Jai!     KaliJai!" 

It  was  a  small  whisper,  as  from  one  speaking 
in  sleep. 

But  the  multitude  around  caught  the  words. 
A  shout  like  the  roaring  of  the  sea  went  up  to 
87 


the  dark  vault  of  heaven.  Then  a  great  fear 
came  upon  them  all,  and  they  were  silent. 

"  He  was  not  dead,  O  Light  of  Justice,  but 
very  nearly."  It  was  the  grave  voice  of  the 
high  priest,  full  of  a  reproach  that  he  cared  not 
to  disguise. 

"  Nurse  him  well,  ere  thou  dost  try  him  again. 
Else  the  gods  will  think  this  was  no  appeal  to 
their  verdict,  but  the  sport  of  a  cruel  tyrant!" 

With  these  daring  words  he  vanished  with  his 
brethren  into  the  enshrouding  gloom. 

Hastening  home  from  that  stupendous  scene, 
a  timorous  man  clung  to  his  neighbour. 

"  Surely,  this  was  the  work  of  the  gods — or 
the  devils ! "  he  murmured,  gazing  fearfully  into 
the  night. 

A  mocking  laugh  behind  answered  him.  A 
tall  gaunt  figure  drew  alongside  and  peered  into 
his  eyes. 

"  Thou  dost  see  the  hand  of  devils  in  this,  O 
thoughtless  one?  But  I  tell  thee  that  Narayan 
Lai  slept." 

88 


"But  what  sleep  was  this  that  was  so  near 
death  ? "  asked  the  man,  with  a  catch  in  his 
voice. 

"  Hast  thou  never  heard  of  men  in  other  lands 
falling  asleep  so  well  that  their  friends,  thinking 
them  dead,  have  put  them  in  wooden  boxes  and 
placed  them  prematurely  under  the  earth  ?  " 

"  But  who  put  Narayan  Lai  in  that  dreadful 
sleep  that  was  like  unto  death?" 

"Himself  first,  and  then  the  guru.  His  will 
and  the  guru's  combining  did  this.  Sleep  well, 
my  friend,  and  see  no  devils  in  thy  sleep." 

And  as  he  turned  to  go  they  recognised  him. 
He  was  the  pundit,  the  philosopher. 

"  Truly,  that  man  had  returned  from  the 
tomb !  "  murmured  the  Great  King.  "  But  tell 
me,  O  man  of  wisdom,  what  was  the  greatest 
danger  that  Narayan  Lai  feared?" 

The  Story-teller  kissed  the  fringe  of  the  silken 
sheet  ere  he  answered : 

"  In  the  awakening,  O  Glory  of  the  Heavens, 
not  in  the  sleeping.  To  put  himself  in  yoge  he 
89 


®If*    Vtrftirt    0f    tlje    (gnfca 

knew,  and  the  high  priest  knew.  But  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  awakening  is  given  to  but  few  on 
earth — even  amongst  such  men!" 

"  But  tell  me,  how  was  he  raised  up  in  the 
air?" 

"  By  the  power  of  the  will,  Heaven-born. 
The  guru's  will  in  union  with  his  brethren's  did 
this.  It  needed  the  will  of  all  five,  even  as  did 
the  awakening." 

But  perchance  you  will  ask  me,  O  best  beloved 
readers,  to  explain  more  fully  this  rising  up  of 
Narayan  Lai's  body.  Hearing  the  tale  from 
the  other  side  of  the  royal  couch,  I,  the  faithful 
chronicler  of  the  Great  King,  have  put  on  record 
the  full  explanation  of  that  wondrous  scene,  and 
now  set  it  forth  to  you  in  such  Western  terms  as 
you  may  understand,  O  best  beloved.  (For, 
were  I  to  speak  in  terms  of  true  Eastern  mysti- 
cism, you  would  not  understand  me,  O  beloved!) 
This  is  the  explanation: 

From  every  human  body  there  is  a  certain 
emanation ;  a  certain  force  that  resides  in  the 
body,  and  under  favourable  conditions  can  flow 
90 


Uerfcirt    nf    tlf*    (gnfta 

out  from  it  in  a  stream.  This  flow  takes  place 
most  rapidly  and  powerfully  from  the  pointed 
parts  of  the  body ;  for  instance,  the  finger- 
tips, the  nose,  etc. ;  but  best  from  the  finger- 
tips. 

First,  the  proof  that  this  emanation  does 
occur:  Whatever  may  be  the  nature  of  the 
emanation  (which  I  shall  consider  presently,  O 
best  beloved)  in  aspect  it  is  luminous!  Though 
not  visible  to  the  human  eye,  it  is  yet  visible  to 
a  certain  wonderful  recording  instrument — the 
photographic  camera.  You  now  know  that 
there  are  rays  of  light  which  may  actually  pass 
through  the  human  body  and  show  us  all  the 
bones  within  it;  and  yet  these  rays  are  not 
visible  to  the  human  eye,  but  only  to  the 
camera.1 

Then  know,  O  best  beloved,  that  the  human 
body  itself  gives  out  a  certain  luminous  force, 
which,  though  not  visible  to  the  eye,  is  yet 
visible  to  the  camera.  And,  O  beloved,  though 
this  wondrous  fact  has  only  just  been  discovered 
1  The  Rontgen  rays. 

91 


2H|*    Urrfciri    af    tlj*    (gafca 

in  the  West  with  the  aid  of  the  camera,  in  India 
it  was  known  to  sages  a  thousand  years  ago 
without  such  aid ;  there  they  knew  of  this  human 
emanation  by  other  means.  But  in  the  West  its 
existence  has  only  just  been  proved  in  the  follow- 
ing manner : 

A  human  being,  placed  in  an  absolutely  dark 
room,  can  be  photographed  by  his  own  light, 
provided  both  the  camera  and  the  person  remain 
motionless,  and  the  exposure  be  sufficiently  long. 
Faint  though  it  be,  the  impression  will  be  quite 
perceptible ;  and  it  will  be  clearest  at  the  points 
of  the  body — for  instance,  the  finger-tips,  if  the 
hands  of  the  person  be  outstretched  during  the 
exposure;  especially  if  the  camera  be  in  a  line 
with  the  fingers. 

Why  at  the  points?  Why,  you  may  ask, 
should  this  emanation  act  the  best  at  points? 
Because  all  emanations,  even  those  we  already 
know  intimately  (for  instance,  electricity)  act 
best  at  points.  Lightning-rods  are  made  pointed 
in  order  that  the  electricity  of  the  earth  may 
emanate  through  the  point  and  be  discharged 
92 


Clj?    Ueritri    0f    i  Ij  e    (60^0 

into  the  clouds,  thus  relieving  the  electric  ten- 
sion between  the  earth  and  the  clouds. 

Secondly,  the  nature  of  the  human  emanation : 
It  is  a  form  of  personal  magnetism.  (I  use  this 
phrase,  O  best  beloved,  because  it  is  intelligible 
to  you.  But  in  India  it  is  known  by  a  more 
distinctive  name.  Even  in  Western  language  it 
were  possible  to  indicate  a  nearer  approxima- 
tion.1) In  some  persons  this  force  Or  power  is 
far  greater  than  in  others ;  in  the  guru  it  was 
perhaps  the  greatest  possible  in  man.  Even 
ordinary  people  possess  it  to  some  little  extent : 
any  four  or  five  persons  may  sit  round  a  table, 
place  their  finger-tips  lightly  upon  it,  and  thus 
cause  the  table  to  be  lifted  off  the  ground  in  a 
few  minutes.  Then  how  much  greater  would  be 
that  force  possessed  by  such  men  as  the  guru 
and  his  four  brethren. 

Now  you  will  understand,  O  beloved,  how  it 
was  possible  for  the  priests  of  Kali — men  who 
had  made  these  occult  sciences  their  lifelong 

1  Some  unidentified  emanation  ultra  to,  but  of  the  na- 
ture of,  the  newly-discovered  Blondlot-rays. 

93 


Sllje    HerMrt    af    tty?    <&0&s 

study — to  raise  up  Narayan  Lai's  body  in  the 
air.  Magnetised  iron,  a  foot  above  the  ground, 
can  raise  up  magnetised  iron  lying  upon  the 
ground.  Then  why  not  the  guru  in  union  with 
his  four  brethren  the  body  of  Narayan  Lai? 

Have  you  never  taken  an  instant  fancy  to  a 
person  you  have  just  met  for  the  first  time — or, 
on  the  other  hand,  instant  dislike?  In  the  first 
case  have  you  not  been  attracted  by  that  person, 
you  could  not  tell  why — and  in  the  latter  case 
repelled?  Then  know,  O  beloved,  that  in  the 
one  case  it  was  the  invisible  emanation  from 
that  person  which  reached  out  to  you  and  at- 
tracted you ;  in  the  other,  repelled.  Where  the 
mutual  sympathy  is  the  greatest,  the  attraction 
is  the  strongest.  But  how  great  must  the  sym- 
pathy naturally  be  between  the  master  and  the 
disciple!  Thus  marvel  not  that  the  attraction 
also  was  very  great  between  the  guru  and  Nara- 
yan Lai. 

But  perhaps  you  will  ask  me:  why  was  it 
necessary  for  the  guru  to  test  the  power  of  this 
attraction  before  restoring  the  youth  to  con- 
94 


sciousness?  Could  he  not  have  done  so,  with- 
out this  preliminary  raising  up  of  Narayan's 
body?  In  answer  I  shall  repeat  the  words  of 
the  Story-teller :  "  The  danger  to  Narayan  Lai 
lay  in  the  awakening,  not  in  the  sleeping." 
Verily,  not  till  the  guru  felt  sure  that  Nara- 
yan's personal  magnetism  had  returned  to  his 
body  could  he  venture  to  awaken  him  from  his 
long  yoge  (trance)  ;  for,  during  it,  all  the  func- 
tions of  his  body  were  suspended;  likewise  his 
personal  magnetism.  And  what  greater  cer- 
tainty could  the  guru  have  of  the  return  of  that 
force  than  the  response  given  by  Narayan's 
body  to  his  own?  Verily,  not  till  he  saw  the 
youth's  body  rise  up  in  the  air  did  he  know  for 
certain  that  his  body  was  resuming  its  normal 
functions — that  the  time  had  indeed  come  to 
awaken  the  sleeper,  without  fear  of  a  relapse 
into  perpetual  slumber,  death !  Even  as  it  was, 
Narayan  Lai  only  just  escaped  that  peril! 

Yet,  manifold  as  was  the  peril,  he  had  the 
help  of  his  brethren.    In  his  next  trial  the  spirit 
of  the  dead  must  have  befriended  him. 
95 


TONGUES    OF    FIRE 

'NOW,  O  King  of  Kings,  that  the 
doing  of  a  perilous  deed  becomes 
doubly  perilous  when  the  doer  has  no 
warning  of  his  task  and  is  denied 
every  accessory  in  its  accomplishment.  How 
much  more,  if  his  fears  be  first  lulled  to  sleep  by 
a  false  security  as  to  its  true  nature!  Aye,  if 
added  to  the  trial  there  be  another  peril,  subtle, 
n^sterious,  and  unforseen  alike  by  him  who  is 
tried  and  he  who  sets  the  trial!  Of  this  un- 
known peril  first. 

Know,  O  King,  that  seventeen  years  before 
the  opening  of  my  tale — the  same  year  in 
which  Narayan  LaPs  reputed  father  had  entered 
his  master's  service,  bringing  with  him  as  a  mere 
child  the  hero  of  this  tale — also,  the  same  year 
in  which  that  mysterious  pundit,  Rama  Krishna, 
96 


BerMrt    of    tlf*    (gotta 

had  likewise  appeared  on  the  scene — a  third 
man  had  also  followed  in  the  footsteps  of  the 
two  former.  .  But  these  two  knew  nothing  of 
him ;  never  suspected  his  presence  so  near  them. 
Once  indeed  Narayan  Lai's  reputed  father,  Hira 
Lai,  had  caught  this  stranger  watching  the 
growing  child  with  rapacious  eyes ;  but  he  had 
deemed  that  to  be  mere  vulgar  curiosity,  not 
an  indication  of  any  evil  purpose.  And  once 
again,  as  a  boy  of  twelve,  Narayan  was  bath- 
ing in  the  Ganges  and  had  swum  out  beyond 
his  depth — when  suddenly  he  had  cried  out  that 
an  alligator  had  caught  him  by  the  foot  and 
was  dragging  him  down,  and  Hira  Lai  had  just 
been  in  time  to  rescue  the  boy.  But  looking  at 
the  boy's  ankle  he  had  found,  not  the  marks  of 
an  alligator's  teeth,  but  the  broken  end  of  a 
looped  wire !  Then  suddenly  he  had  remembered 
that  a  boat  had  been  moored  nigh,  and  had 
hastily  quitted  its  moorings  on  the  rescue  of 
the  child,  and  glided  downstream. 

Yet  Hira  Lai  had  failed  to  connect  these  two 
circumstances  together,  and  suspect  any  evil 
97 


OJlje    Urr&tri    nf    t  h  r    (Sobs 

machination  against  the  child.  Nay,  when  a 
strange  man  sought  to  enter  the  service  of  the 
ruler  of  that  land,  and  gradually  rose  high  in 
office  in  the  royal  household — even  then  Hira 
Lai,  though  seeing  him  often,  failed  to  recog- 
nise in  him  the  stranger  that  had  once  cast  evil 
eyes  upon  the  unguarded  child. 

And  now,  O  Heaven-born,  when  the  child  was 
grown  up  and  on  his  trial  before  his  master, 
that  stranger  had  become  the  Jemadar  of  the 
Household.  Of  his  joy,  when  he  saw  Narayan 
Lai  so  near  death,  there  was  no  limit.  Verily, 
if  the  youth  were  killed,  his  own  task  was  at  an 
end!  Could  the  youth  escape?  Surely  not! 
Four  more  trials  had  he;  within  them  he  must 
die. 

Thus  the  jemadar  had  resolved  to  render  the 
trials  more  arduous  still.  He  had  kept  vigilant 
watch  upon  Leila ;  for  he  suspected  her  of  being 
her  mistress's  instrument  in  aiding  the  youth. 
Also,  he  had  hungered  after  her  for  purposes  of 
his  own ;  for  Leila  was  a  beautiful  maiden.  Of 
her  own  lover,  Harnam  Das,  the  captain  of  the 
98 


©Ije    ISUrbiri    0f    t^t    (Snin 

palace  guards,  the  jemadar  feared  nothing.  He 
would  have  the  maiden  in  spite  of  him — then 
fling  her  away.  For  he  still  nursed  his  pierced 
ear  under  his  turban,  and  kept  in  his  girdle  the 
jewelled  stiletto  that  had  made  the  wound. 

But  the  night  before  Narayan  Lai's  next 
trial,  the  very  hour  he  was  scheming  the  youth's 
death,  a  call  came  to  him  from  the  outer  world — 
the  world  he  had  left  behind  a  full  generation; 
and  yet  the  call  was  in  furtherance  of  the  very 
purpose  in  his  heart.  He  was  gazing  out  of  the 
window  of  his  apartment  in  the  outer  wing  of 
the  palace,  when  a  faint  sound  trickled  into  his 
ear  out  of  the  stillness.  It  was  short  and  sharp. 
It  came  again,  now  long-drawn  and  more 
intense. 

It  was  the  hooting  of  an  owl.  The  usual 
dismal  cry  of  the  night-bird,  and  yet  not  quite 
like  it.  There  was  a  persistence,  insistence,  in 
the  last  note. 

The  jemadar  started.  Dimly,  slowly,  some- 
thing awakened  to  life  within  him.  For  one 
brief  moment  he  paused,  wavering  in  doubt. 
99 


®Ife    Herfcirt    af    ilj*    (Snfca 

The  sound  reached  his  ear  a  third  time — and 
memory  came  back  to  him  like  a  lightning-flash. 

He  quitted  the  apartments,  and  stealthily 
made  his  way  towards  the  far  end  of  the  garden, 
creeping  along  the  shelter  of  the  wall;  for  he 
deemed  it  unwise  to  seek  exit  by  the  palace- 
gates.  Reaching  the  far  end,  he  gathered 
together  an  armful  of  stout  creepers,  twisted 
them  together  into  a  long  rope,  found  a  tall 
tree  whose  projecting  bough  hung  over  the  wall, 
and  climbed  up  the  trunk.  Gaming  the  end  of 
the  bough,  he  tied  to  it  the  rope,  and  descended 
by  it  to  the  other  side  of  the  wall. 

The  owl's  hoot  he  himself  gave,  once,  twice, 
thrice.  From  within  the  shelter  of  a  ravine  a 
dark  shadow  came  up  to  him  in  response.  A 
form  muffled  up  in  a  long  choga. 

"  The  fiery  trident !  "  it  gave  the  sign. 

"  And  the  axe  of  sacrifice !  "  gave  back  the 
jemadar  the  countersign. 

The  form  threw  off  the  choga. 

"  The  Master  sends  thee  this !  "    He  held  out 
to  the  jemadar  the  serpent-ring. 
100 


later&irt    0f    life    (S0&0 

And  at  the  sight  of  the  serpent  on  the  little 
trinket  the  jemadar's  jaws  set  tight  as  a  vice. 
He  salaamed  with  both  hands,  bowing  to  the 
ground,  saluting  this  little  wisp  of  gold.  For 
he  realised  its  significance.  He  must  obey  its 
message  even  at  the  peril  of  his  life.  For 
though  he  openly  served  one  master,  he  was 
secretly  in  the  pay  of  another.  A  spy  in  this 
court.  A  Thug;  an  assassin. 

The  messenger  peered  into  his  face  with  nar- 
rowed eyelids. 

"  For  seventeen  years  hast  thou  eaten  in 
secret  the  Master's  salt,  watching  the  cub.  Now 
the  Master  bids  thee— strike ! " 

Thrice  the  jemadar  kissed  the  serpent-ring 
ere  he  answered.  "  To  hear  is  to  obey.  For 
seventeen  years  I  have  sought  his  life,  without 
the  peril  of  my  own ;  for  I  deemed  the  cub  igno- 
rant of  his  birth,  and  thus  the  sacrifice  of  my  own 
life  unnecessary.  But  now  tell  the  Master:  the 
lion's  whelp  shall  die — if  need  be  at  the  cost  of 
my  life.  In  the  trials  he  shall  fall ;  if  not,  then 
in  the  very  hour  of  his  triumph!"  And  the 
101 


jemadar  steeled  his  heart  to  the  deed  he  had  so 
long  deferred. 

"  Nay,  afterwards  it  were  too  late ;  for  if  he 
triumphs,  his  master  will  aid  him  to  regain  his 
own.  Thou  must  strike  within  the  trials." 

The  jemadar  bowed  his  head.  "  He  is  too 
well  guarded ;  for  his  life  is  precious  to  his 
master  for  the  very  purpose  of  the  trials. 
Nevertheless,  he  shall  not  live.  I  have 
spoken ! " 

"  It  is  well,"  the  messenger  answered,  eyeing 
him  narrowly.  "  And  if  thou  dost  want  aid, 
five  of  the  brethren  are  at  thy  service!  Dost 
thou  understand  me?  " 

The  jemadar  understood.  "It  is  written!" 
he  murmured.  For  the  five  Thugs  would  aid 
him  to  slay  his  victim — or  slay  him,  if  he  flinched 
in  his  task.  They  were  spies  upon  a  spy. 

"  They  will  be  in  the  cavern  beneath  the 
great  banyan  tree,"  the  messenger  continued, 
"  awaiting  thy  call.  If  thou  shouldst  want 
them  at  the  palace,  give  the  sign  of  the  owl; 
there  will  be  one  at  this  wall  to  hear  thee.  If 
102 


Clje    Beriirt    0f    lite     <B  o  i  3 

beyond  the  palace,  even  to  the  mountains,  then 
put  up  the  sign  of  the  flaming  torch  upon  the 
plateau." 

Thus  in  that  hour  the  false  jemadar,  the 
Thug  in  disguise,  vowed  to  take  Narayan's  life 
within  the  trials ;  otherwise  his  own  life  would 
be  forfeited. 

But  that  very  hour,  whilst  the  jemadar  was 
absent  from  the  palace,  the  gods  in  a  sportive 
mood  seized  the  opportunity  to  send  their  aid 
to  his  victim — and,  wondrous  caprice  of  the 
gods,  through  his  other  victim!  Through  the 
very  woman  the  jemadar  sought  to  injure! 

Crossing  the  courtyard  with  her  silver  pitcher 
balanced  deftly  upon  her  head,  and  nearing  the 
crystal  fountain  by  the  outer  gate,  Leila  saw 
an  aged  mendicant  begging  alms  from  the 
guards.  A  strange  presentiment  entered  her 
soul.  A  beggar's  blessing  had  power  to  sway 
the  will  of  the  gods.  She  called  the  mendicant 
within  the  courtyard. 

But  receiving  the  bounty,  and  raising  his 
hand  to  bless  her,  he  murmured,  "  Upon  thy 
103 


Sllfe    ller&irt    of    tit?    (601*0 

head  be  Lakme's  choicest  gifts — and  upon  his 
head  this !  " 

Something  dropped  from  his  hand  into  the 
folds  of  her  sari.  A  small  phial,  no  bigger 
than  a  man's  thumb. 

A  smothered  cry — and  the  beggar's  warning 
hand  checked  the  maiden;  for  the  guards  were 
nigh.  With  startled  eyes  she  gazed  into  his; 
read  therein  a  perilous  message. 

"  To-night ;  else  it  were  too  late ! " 

With  these  whispered  words  the  mendicant 
hobbled  back  to  the  gate  and  vanished  into  the 
dark. 

Then  light  came  to  her  heart,  and  she  under- 
stood. For  she  realised  that  upon  the  morrow 
Narayan  Lai's  life  would  again  be  in  peril.  This 
night  she  must  act.  .  .  . 

.  And  upon  the  morrow,  an  hour  before  sun- 
set, without  previous  word  or  notice  even  as  to 
the  day  of  the  trial,  Narayan  Lai  was  taken 
before  his  master  in  the  audience-hall  of  the 
palace.  He  was  not  permitted  to  bring  any- 
thing with  him,  save  the  clothes  he  wore — white 
104 


JJlje   Vtritirt    af    ilf?    (Snfta 

trousers,  white  tunic,  white  turban.  His  feet 
were  bare. 

The  king  sat  in  his  robe  of  state  upon  the 
ivory  throne.  Around  the  dai's  sat  the  coun- 
cillors; grey-bearded,  grim-visaged  warriors 
that  vaunted  their  scars  of  many  battles ;  clean- 
shaven, yellow-robed  pundits  that  brazened  their 
caste-marks  of  sandal  wood  upon  their  proud 
foreheads. 

Behinds  the  guards  at  the  doorway  thronged 
the  people,  and  in  the  courtyard  beyond  a 
vaster  multitude  that,  seeing  nothing,  yet 
heard  each  murmuring  word  floating  down  the 
human  tide. 

Narayan  Lai  stood  before  the  throne  with 
arms  folded  over  his  breast.  Around  him  was 
an  empty  space  twelve  cubits  in  diameter.  That 
was  his  arena. 

"  Make  us  see  and  feel  something  that  is  not 
before  us  now,"  spoke  the  king  from  his  throne. 
"  But  not  all  alike.  Some  of  us  to  see  one  thing, 
some  another,  others  a  third,  and  so  on;  all 
different  each  time."  And  the  king  smiled 
105 


grimly  as  he  bethought  him  of  the  trap  he  had 
laid. 

In  a  vague  glimmering  light  in  his  mind 
Narayan  Lai  seemed  to  discern  faintly  that  the 
utmost  of  his  professional  skill  was  now  de- 
manded of  him.  To  create  out  of  nothing  was 
difficult  enough ;  to  do  so  repeatedly  and  each 
time  a  different  thing  was  beyond  human  power. 
And  an  indefinable  presentiment  came  over  him 
that  even  this  was  only  a  prelude.  What  poten- 
tial dangers  lurked  beyond,  he  but  dimly 
guessed. 

Yet  one  resource  was  within  his  reach — if  he 
did  not  belie  his  own  powers.  They  wanted  to 
see  things ;  things  not  in  existence.  Seeing  was 
but  a  mental  phenomenon.  See  they  would 
then;  all  that  they  desired.  That  at  least  he 
could  try — and  the  gods  grant  him  favour  and 
prey  upon  the  visions  of  these  lumps  of  clay. 
.  .  .  Would  they  see  things?  Verily  they 
should  see  and  yet  not  see !  ... 

He  tore  a  piece  from  the  end  of  his  turban, 
about  the  size  of  a  handkerchief.  From  this  he 
106 


Sty?    Ker&tri    af    ify*    (Snfca 

tore  again  a  thin  strip,  rolled  it  lengthways  be- 
tween his  fingers,  and  coiled  it  round  and  round 
into  the  shape  of  a  thick  disc.  Approaching  the 
councillor  nearest  him,  a  heavy  old  warrior  with 
huge  side-whiskers  twirled  over  his  ears,  he  said 
to  him : 

"Open  thy  right  hand,  good  sir,  and  take 
this  cloth." 

Narayan  Lai  placed  the  coil  in  the  other's 
open  palm,  and  pressed  it  down  hard  upon  it* 
Next  he  closed  the  warrior's  fingers  over  the  coil, 
and  begged  him  to  grip  it  tight.  Then  he  with- 
drew to  the  end  of  the  space,  twelve  cubits  away, 
and  addressed  the  councillor. 

"  I  ask  thee,  sir,  to  think  with  me  of  the  things 
I  mention.  Close  thine  eyes.  Imagine  thyself 
to  be  alone  in  a  fortress.  It  is  midnight,  dark 
and  silent.  Thou  art  watching  by  the  wall,  but 
feeling  tired. 

"  Suddenly  a  faint  sound  is  heard :  some- 
thing moving  along  the  top  of  the  wall!  It 
comes  nearer,  creeping  up  by  inches.  What 
lurking  danger  can  it  be,  so  slow,  so  subtle?  To 
107 


£ljr    UrrMri    n  f    Hj  e    (Safca 

what  proportions  would  it  increase,  if  un- 
checked? Still  creeping  up,  creeping  up,  right 
before  thee.  .  .  .  Put  they  hand  on  it — catch 
it— hard!  " 

The  old  warrior  snatched  frantically  at  the 
air — but  only  gripped  the  coil  tighter.  His 
hand  trembled  violently.  He  held  the  wrist  with 
the  left  hand  to  steady  it ;  but  it  still  shook  as  in 
an  ague  fit.  The  fingers  began  to  be  forced 
outwards.  His  eyes  were  now  wide  open — with 
a  vacant  glassy  stare. 

"  Hold  it  fast ! "  cried  out  the  juggler. 

The  warrior  set  his  teeth  and  clenched  his  fist, 
till  the  blood  stood  out  in  the  veins;  but  the 
fingers  began  to  move  up  and  down  as  if  he 
were  playing  upon  an  invisible  violin.  A  vol- 
canic force  seemed  to  be  working  beneath. 

"  A  jinn! "  gasped  the  old  man,  throwing 
open  his  swollen  hand.  A  little  brown  thing 
wriggled  out  and  dropped  to  the  floor. 

It  was  a  live  lizard. 

With  tail  erect  and  head  raised,  it  began  to 
run  along  the  floor  to  the  foot  of  the  dai's.  But 
108 


Slye    IrrMrf    nf    t^t    (6  0  i  s 

Narayan  Lai  sprang  forward,  and  caught  it  in 
his  hand. 

Holding  it  aloft  by  the  tail,  so  that  all  could 
see  it  a  moment,  he  tied  it  up  in  the  remaining 
piece  of  cloth  he  had  torn  from  his  turban.  With 
this  he  approached  one  of  the  guards  by  the  side 
of  the  dai's.  This  man  was  a  peasant  by  caste. 

"  Take  this  creature  in  thy  hand,  my  friend," 
he  bade  him. 

The  guard  shook  his  head  dubiously;  but 
noting  his  master's  eye  upon  him,  put  out  his 
hand  reluctantly.  Narayan  Lai  placed  the 
bundle  there,  and  requested  him  to  hold  it  high 
above  his  head ;  then  he  retired  to  his  own  place, 
twelve  cubits  away. 

"I  ask  thee,  friend,  to  think  with  me  of  the 
things  I  mention,"  he  repeated  the  formula. 
"  Close  thine  eyes.  Imagine  that  a  great  famine 
is  raging  in  the  land.  Rice  and  wheat  crops  are 
withered  by  the  sun.  Thou  art  hungry;  thou 
hast  gone  to  bed  supperless. 

"  Thou  art  dreaming.  Something  seems  to 
dangle  above  thy  pillow.  It  comes  nearer  and 
109 


nearer.  Suddenly  it  falls  within  reach.  .  .  . 
Stretch  -forth  thy  hand — seize  it — quick!  " 

The  sepoy  held  on  to  the  cloth  with  a  des- 
perate clutch.  Something  hard  lay  in  it,  motion- 
less and  inert ;  a  while  ago  it  was  a  soft  wriggling 
lizard. 

"Open  it,  friend,  and  eat  it!"  bade  the  jug- 
gler, with  an  encouraging  smile. 

Like  a  soulless  automaton  the  sepoy  opened 
out  the  bundle.  Something  fell  out  to  the  floor. 

It  was  a  maize  stalk  a  span  in  length,  and 
studded  with  glistening  corn. 

"Eat  it,"  asked  again  the  juggler.  But  the 
sepoy  would  not.  Maize  made  from  lizard  was 
not  toothsome. 

"  Then  hand  it  over  to  the  venerable  councillor 
before  thee,"  requested  Narayan  Lai,  still  re- 
taining his  place  twelve  cubits  away. 

But  the  councillor  was  a  high-caste  Brahmin. 
He  turned  away  his  head  scornfully. 

"  Take  it,  good  father,"  Narayan  Lai  begged, 
"  merely  to  hold  in  thy  hand — not  to  eat.  Per- 
haps the  gods  are  about  to  reward  thy  piety." 
110 


HOLDING  IT  ALOFT  BY  THE  TAIL HE 

APPROACHED  ONE  OF  THE  GUARDS  " 


SIff*    Vtrftirt    of    tlfe    (Sails 

This  he  added  with  a  subtle  smile  that  seemed  to 
convey  a  hope  and  a  promise.  Long  afterwards 
they  realised  that  it  might  have  equally  implied 
a  threat  and  a  warning. 

With  grave  curiosity  as  to  what  the  gods  would 
do  for  him  so  late  in  life,  the  Brahmin  took  the 
maize.  After  all,  it  was  lifeless. 

"Lay  it  upon  thy  lap,"  the  juggler  said  to 
him,  "  and  cover  it  over  with  the  cloth. 

"  Now  think  with  me  of  the  things  I  mention. 
Close  thine  eyes.  Imagine  thyself  in  the  temple 
of  Sarasathi,  the  Goddess  of  Wisdom.  Thou  art 
meditating  before  the  sanctuary  on  the  folly  of 
mankind  and  the  wisdom  of  the  elect.  Gradu- 
ally the  merits  of  thy  fourscore  ancestors  pass  in 
review  in  thy  mind. 

"  Suddenly  the  goddess  on  the  altar  smiles 
upon  thee.  She  takes  something  from  her  bosom, 
something  bright  and  glittering  in  many  parts, 
and  showers  it  down  upon  thee.  It  falls  upon 
thy  lap.  .  .  .  Hold  it,  father! — both  hands — lest 
it  fall!  " 

The  Brahmin  snatched  at  the  cloth  on  his  lap. 
Ill 


®If*    JUrbiri    0f    tlf*    (gnfcn 

With  nervous  hands  he  raised  it,  fumbling  at 
the  folds.  A  shining  coil,  scintillating  sparks 
of  fire  all  along  its  length,  fell  out  upon  his 
knees. 

"The  mohan-mala,  the  garland  of  enchant- 
ment ! "  whispered  the  priest,  with  a  catch  in  his 
voice. 

"Verily,  it  is,"  answered  the  juggler.  "The 
goddess  has  sent  it  to  thee." 

The  Brahmin  held  it  up  to  the  light  hesitat- 
ingly. It  was  a  gold  chain  wrought  in  alternate 
flowers,  lotus  and  champak;  the  crown  of  the 
jeweller's  art. 

"  Place  it  around  thy  neck,  venerable  father, 
so  that  thou  mayest  become  wiser  than  thy 
generation." 

As  one  in  a  dream,  scarce  believing  what  he 
saw,  the  priest  passed  it  over  his  head,  whilst  all 
around  gazed  upon  it  with  hungry  eyes. 

"  Truly,  this  is  marvellous,"  murmured  to  him 
the  simple-minded  sepoy  by  his  side.  "Didst 
thou  note,  father,  that  Narayan  Lai  stood  all 
the  time  twelve  cubits  away — from  the  passing 


of  the  maize  to  thee,  till  the  creation  of  the  gar- 
land?" 

"Wonderful!"  exclaimed  a  more  fanciful 
neighbour.  "A  chain  of  gold  from  a  maize;  a 
maize  from  a  lizard;  a  lizard  from  a  piece  of 
cloth.  Wherefore,  the  chain  comes  from  the 
cloth " 

"  To  fools !  " 

A  loud  laugh  was  heard  from  somewhere,  a 
derisive  laugh ;  cold  and  hard  and  cynical. 

At  the  sound  of  the  voice  a  strangled  cry 
broke  from  Narayan  Lai's  lips.  Involuntarily 
he  turned  his  head  towards  the  end  of  the  hall. 
Something  seemed  to  knock  at  his  heart.  For  the 
first  time  the  stern  and  haughty  calmness  he  had 
maintained  so  far,  deserted  him.  He  trembled 
like  a  frightened  child. 

But  ere  they  could  discover  whence  the  voice 
had  come,  Narayan  Lai's  master  intervened.  .  .  . 

Without  a  word,  ignoring  the  wonder  of  the 

multitude  and  their  applause  of  the  juggler's 

skill,  Narayan  Lai's  master  motioned  with  his 

hand  to  the  attendants  by  his  side.    One  of  them 

113 


Stir?    ler&irt    nf    tlj?    01050 

withdrew  for  a  while  into  the  adjacent  chamber, 
then  re-appeared  with  a  bundle  wrapped  up  in 
jute  sacking.  He  knelt  down  before  the  king, 
who  broke  with  his  hands  the  seal  upon  it — the 
seal  of  his  own  signet-ring. 

The  attendant  opened  the  bundle  before 
Narayan  Lai;  it  contained  an  armful  of  straw. 
Placing  it  before  the  juggler,  he  withdrew. 

"  Breathe  fire  into  it,"  bade  the  king,  pointing 
to  the  straw. 

"  That  is  impossible ! "  muttered  someone  to 
his  neighbour.  But  the  latter  rebuked  him,  say- 
ing: 

"  I  have  often  seen  him  bring  forth  fire  from 
his  mouth " 

"  That  was  when  he  knew  beforehand  what  he 
himself  intended  to  perform,"  protested  the  first 
speaker.  "  How  can  he  do  it  forthwith,  without 
warning  or  preparation!" 

But  the  king  had  meant  more  than  that. 
To  create  fire  at  another's  command  might  in 
itself  be  impossible.  The  king  demanded  still 
more. 

114. 


Sllf*    $?riniri    nf    tlj*    (gafcs 

"  Bare  thy  head  and  place  the  burning  straw 
upon  it,"  he  continued.  "  Then  prove  to  us  that 
what  had  burnt  upon  thy  head  was  a  real  fire." 
For  verily  this  was  the  trap  he  had  laid  for 
Narayan  Lai! 

Mechanically,  as  one  moving  in  his  sleep,  the 
j  uggler  took  off  his  turban,  his  thick  glossy  hair 
falling  down  to  his  neck.  He  seemed  hardly  to 
realise  what  was  asked  of  him,  so  wrapt  was  he 
in  thought.  For  a  moment  he  stood  there, 
turban  in  hand,  gazing  into  vacancy.  He  looked 
towards  the  king,  but  not  at  him ;  rather  at  some 
bygone  scene  that  he  was  vainly  striving  to 
recall  to  memory;  something  full  of  pleasure, 
yet  full  of  pain.  A  pleasant  recollection, 
mingled  with  deep  sorrow — sorrow  that  it  was 
passed  for  ever. 

He  knelt  down  upon  the  floor  and  mechanically 
drew  the  heap  of  straw  towards  him,  and  gazed 
into  it  as  if  it  were  alive  and  could  speak — but 
found  no  answer  there. 

Like  an  automaton  he  handled  the  straw, 
raising  it  to  his  face,  smelling  it,  asking  it  mute 
115 


ullje    Urriirt    of    Hj?    <B  0  ii  s 

words  with  suppliant  eyes.  Rather,  as  one 
whose  body  was  there  indeed,  but  whose  mind 
and  heart  were  far  away. 

Then  with  a  sudden  sigh  he  caught  up  a  hand- 
ful of  straw.  Pressing  it  an  instant  upon  his 
bared  head,  he  began  to  rub  it  briskly  between 
his  palms.  Faster  and  faster  moved  his  hands, 
straight  up  and  down.  Now  and  again  he  blew 
upon  the  straw,  a  long  steady  breath. 

The  spectators  craned  their  necks  to  watch. 
A  buzzing  whisper  went  around  to  tell  the  world 
what  he  was  doing— dilating  upon  this  simple 
action  with  fanciful  embellishments. 

"I  have  seen  his  father  do  it,"  murmured  a 
wizened  old  man,  a  Behari  merchant  by  the  shape 
of  his  turban.  "  It  was  at  the  court  of  Benares — 
before  he  took  service  here." 

His  hearer,  with  eyes  still  upon  the  juggler, 
screwed  his  mouth  aside.  "  Thou  knowest  much, 
stranger.  What  more  didst  thou  see?" 

"This  very  youth,"  calmly  replied  the  other. 
"He  was  a  mere  child  then.  His  father  placed 
fire  upon  his  head,  and  it  did  not  burn.  The 
116 


king  rewarded  him  much;  so  also  a  great 
traveller  from  over  the  sea,  whom  the  king  was 
entertaining." 

The  lips  of  the  juggler  began  to  move  in  in- 
audible words,  as  if  he  spoke  to  some  kindred 
spirit  hovering  round.  A  strange  lustre  came 
into  his  eyes.  They  were  not  upon  the  straw, 
but  straight  ahead.  It  was  an  awakening  gleam 
— as  of  one  long  asleep  in  darkness  seeing 
light.  The  lost  memory  was  coming  back  to 
his  soul. 

"Father!" 

It  was  scarce  a  whisper  that  broke  involun- 
tarily from  his  lips;  more  like  a  distant  echo. 
His  blazing  eyes  held  communion  with  someone 
that  others  could  not  see.  The  hands  full  of  the 
straw  he  stretched  forth  to  clutch  the  vision — 
then  recoiled  open-mouthed. 

With  a  sigh,  almost  a  moan,  he  began  to  rub 
the  straw  anew.  But  that  instant  there  flashed 
forth  a  light  of  joy  in  his  eyes — wild,  frantic, 
ecstatic. 

He  raised  his  head  higher  and  higher,  gazing 
117 


Elf*    KerlHri    af    ill*    $n&0 

at  some  approaching  object.  A  smile  quivered 
upon  his  lips  as  the  vision  paused  over  his  head. 
He  felt  the  presence  of  some  master-mind  over- 
shadowing him,  descending  upon  him  like  even- 
ing dew. 

" Mahatma"  (great  spirit),  gasped  someone 
that  realised  the  omen.  But  those  near  him — 
fleshly  men,  of  the  earth,  earthy — knew  not 
what  he  meant. 

In  frenzied  haste  Narayan  Lai  rubbed  the 
straw,  breathing  wild  gusts  of  wind  into  it. 
Faster  and  faster,  to  and  fro,  up  and  down, 
spasmodically. 

Suddenly  he  leapt  to  his  feet,  raised  his  quick- 
ening hands  over  his  head,  offering  a  holocaust 
to  him  that  hovered  there,  brought  them  down 
to  his  mouth,  emptied  his  hot  breath  into  the 
straw  in  one  loud  blast,  flung  up  his  arms,  and 
hurled  the  straw  to  the  ground. 

There  was  an  instant  flash — like  the  setting 
sun  reflected  from  the  crest  of  a  wave — a 
tongue  of  flame  leaped  to  life  from  the  falling 
straw. 

118 


Wilt    lUr&iri    nf    ilf*    (Snfta 

"Fire!"  shrieked  a  voice  from  somewhere,  a 
shriek  of  mingled  fear  and  joy. 

"Living  fire!"  whispered  they  that  saw — 
hushing  their  voices  in  sudden  awe  as  the  im- 
pending tragedy  dawned  upon  them  with  a 
shock. 

But  scarcely  had  the  flames  reached  the  floor 
when  Narayan  Lai  sprang  forward,  snatching 
up  a  handful  from  the  heap  at  his  feet,  and 
gathered  up  the  burning  straw  in  his  bare 
hands. 

"  Draw  thy  sword,  quick ! "  he  cried  out  to  the 
nearest  guard.  "  Advance — hold  the  naked 
blade  over  my  head." 

He  fell  on  his  knees  and  placed  the  burning 
straw  upon  his  head. 

"Hold  the  blade  in  the  flames — the  middle — 
flat ! "  he  shrieked  out  like  one  possessed. 

With  one  hand  he  kept  the  straw  upon  his 
head;  with  the  other  he  reached  out  and  piled 
on  fresh  lots  from  the  bundle  at  his  feet. 

The  hot  cinders  fell  over  his  eyes  and  face,  and 
twinkled  upon  his  shoulders.  Little  black  holes 
119 


uilje    UrrMrt    of    ilic    <6niis 

began  to  form  in  his  flimsy  white  tunic.  A 
flaming  wisp  fell  from  his  brow,  glanced  off  his 
cheek,  and  found  new  life  upon  his  breast.  The 
red  line  flared  up  there,  meandered  along  the 
collar-bone,  then  burnt  itself  out  upon  a  braid- 
ing. And  all  the  while  Narayan  Lai  fed  the 
flames  upon  his  head.  His  eyes  were  blazing  like 
a  madman's,  glistening  through  a  thick  moisture 
that  was  not  tears. 

A  column  of  smoke  went  circling  to  the  roof 
of  the  hall,  and  finding  no  outlet,  crept  along 
the  walls.  Soon  a  dim  hazy  mist  began  to 
form. 

The  white-clad  figure  kneeling  upon  the  floor 
— the  red  tongues  of  fire  leaping  up  from  his 
head  and  licking  the  glittering  steel — the  dazed, 
stupefied  sepoy  standing  motionless  by  the 
flames — all  encircled  in  the  wreathing  smoke: 
What  a  picture! 

"Let  me  go!    Let  me  go!" 

It  was  a  sudden  shriek,  a  shriek  of  terror  and 
unholy  fear.  It  came  from  the  guard. 

He  was  trembling  in  every  limb,  his  eyes  fixed 
120 


©lye    $?ri>Ui    nf    tlf?    (gait* 

in  blank  horror  before  him,  his  brow  and  face 
bathed  in  a  heavy  sweat  that  came  not  from  the 
flames,  for  his  skin  was  cold  and  clammy. 

"  Let  me  go ! "  he  cried  again,  dropping  the 
flat  of  his  sword  upon  the  juggler's  head.  "  See, 
the  flames — the  flames !  " 

He  pointed  with  his  other  hand  to  the  red 
tongues.  But  the  tongues  of  fire  swayed  to 
either  side  of  the  steel,  licking  it  hungrily.  The 
multitude  thought  that  he  had  suddenly  gone 
mad. 

"No!  The  breath— the  breath!  Can  ye  not 
see  him  breathe  upon  the  flames  ?  " 

But  Narayan  Lai  knelt  motionless,  like  the 
bronze  statue  in  the  temple  of  the  Fire-god  upon 
which  burnt  the  ceaseless  embers.  He  seemed  to 
be  in  a  trance;  his  eyes  were  closed,  his  lips 
pursed  tight.  Only  his  hand  moved  mechani- 
cally to  reach  the  straw  by  his  side. 

"Not  him — but  the  other!"  And  the  guard 
pointed  his  shaking  hand  at  the  top  of  the 
flames.  But  it  was  only  smoke  there. 

"  Stay  there ! "  bade  the  king  in  a  cold  stern 


®M    Uerfciri    0f    lly*    (Softs 

voice.  "Hold  up  the  sword  to  the  flames!" 
Having  eyes,  he  could  not  see;  having  ears,  he 
could  not  hear ;  neither  he  nor  the  lumps  of  clay 
around  him.  But  the  poor  mad  sepoy,  that 
held  the  sword  and  saw  visions,  was  within 
the  flaming  zone;  to  him  the  curling  smoke 
was  indeed  the  materialised  spirit  of  the 
dead! 

"  But  there  is  no  flame ! "  muttered  a  stranger 
in  the  well  of  the  hall. 

They  turned  upon  him  with  a  savage  glare. 
Who  dared  blaspheme  their  god-given  eyes? 

It  was  a  man  dressed  in  a  black  chupkan 
reaching  down  to  his  knees ;  upon  his  head  there 
was  no  turban,  but  a  long  funnel-shaped  hat.  A 
Parsi;  a  fire-worshipper. 

"  It  is  a  large  red  flower,  the  many  petals 
waving  in  the  wind ! "  persisted  the  man. 

"  Art  also  mad  ?    There  is  no  wind !  " 

But  that  instant  a  cry  was  heard  from  some- 
one in  front.  It  was  the  last  handful  that  Nara- 
yan  Lai  was  piling  upon  his  head.  He  could 
scarcely  be  seen  in  the  dense  smoke,  only  his  faint 


outlines.  The  man  before  him  stood  like  one 
dazed.  He  clutched  the  hilt  of  the  sword  with 
both  hands,  holding  the  blade  horizontally  before 
him. 

The  dying  embers  flickered,  glowed,  flickered 
again,  then  suddenly  vanished  in  the  smoke.  A 
heap  of  ashes  fell  in  a  shower  around  Narayan 
Lai's  face  and  shoulders. 

That  instant  he  leapt  to  his  feet,  a  madman's 
haunted  look  in  his  eyes — snatched  up  the  sword 
from  the  soldier's  grasp — and  sprang  to  the 
front  of  the  dai's. 

The  middle  of  the  blade  was  painted  red,  four 
fingers  in  width. 

Twirling  the  sword  above  his  head,  he  brought 
down  the  point  upon  the  marble  floor.  There 
was  a  sharp  clank — ending  in  a  dull  thud.  Again 
he  raised  the  sword,  rapidly  turning  it  in  his 
hand  to  the  other  side.  The  blade  was  bent  in 
the  middle — at  the  zone  of  red. 

Down  it  came  to  the  floor  again.  A  heavy 
thud — a  loud  clatter — and  half  the  blade  sprang 
from  the  blow  and  smote  upon  the  foot  of  the 


Sljr    JUrMri    of    Hie    ffiofts 

dai's.  Recoiling,  it  lay  before  the  juggler.  His 
hand  went  forth  and  snatched  it  up. 

"  Behold  the  fire  that  was  a  real  fire,  O  Sun  of 
Life!" 

There  stood  Narayan  Lai  bowing  before  the 
throne.  In  his  left  hand  he  held  the  pointed 
half  of  the  blade ;  in  his  right  was  the  hilt. 

But  the  red  zone  had  vanished  from  either 
half.  A  grey  band  marked  the  place  in  each 
where  it  had  been. 

A  thunder  of  applause  burst  from  the  pent-up 
spectators.  It  was  a  babel  of  voices,  shrieks, 
shouts,  yells  of  frenzy. 

Suddenly  a  single  cry  was  heard. 

"  O  King !    I  claim  thy  justice ! " 

It  was  the  Brahmin  councillor  who  had  re- 
ceived the  mohan-mala  from  Narayan  Lai.  He 
was  now  standing  before  his  seat,  his  eyes  blazing 
in  wrath. 

"  There  is  a  thief  in  this  assembly ! "  he  cried 
out  fiercely,  sweeping  his  thin  bony  finger  to  the 
world  around.  His  rank  alone  entitled  him  to 
such  bold  words. 


®f??    Verftirt    nf    tl?e    (gnfcfl 

An  instant  hush  fell  upon  them  all.  This  was 
bathos  indeed.  A  while  ago  they  were  in  the 
clouds  above;  now  they  were  hurled  to  earth 
with  a  rude,  sordid  shock.  Each  looked  at  his 
neighbour  askance,  and  wondered  where  the  blow 
would  fall. 

"  The  garland  has  been  stolen  from  my  neck." 

Truly  the  beautiful  chain  of  gold  no  longer 
shone  upon  the  Brahmin's  breast.  With  one 
accord  all  eyes  turned  to  the  man  sitting  behind 
him. 

But  he  was  a  bronzed  old  warrior,  the  hero  of 
many  battles.  He  was  chewing  his  bushy  beard 
— and  his  right  hand  playing  with  the  hilt  of  his 
sword. 

"  But  look !  look !    Upon  thy  bosom ! " 

It  was  a  startled  cry  from  the  guard  that 
stood  by  the  Brahmin's  side.  He  pointed  his 
hand  at  the  Brahmin's  breast. 

A  loud  mocking  laugh  answered  him  from  the 
back  of  the  throng — cold  and  hard  and  cynical. 

Dazed  and  bewildered,  a  thousand  emotions 
rending  his  heart,  the  old  priest  put  his  hand  to 
125 


®{j?    Berintri    nf    Iff?    (gn&a 

his  bosom.  With  a  frantic  clutch  he  pulled  out 
something  and  held  it  up. 

It  was  a  long  strip  of  cloth,  rolled  up  length- 
ways ;  the  same  that  Narayan  Lai  had  torn  from 
his  turban.  All  eyes  saw  that. 

The  garland  of  gold  had  returned  to  cloth. 

"  Gold  back  to  maize ;  maize  to  lizard ;  lizard 
to  cloth ! "  Such  was  the  comment  of  the  multi- 
tude. But  all  the  transformation  they  had  not 
seen.  It  was  merely  their  fanciful  imagination 
lengthening  out  the  final  change. 

"  Vanity  of  vanities ;  all  is  vanity,"  murmured 
the  priest  in  a  quivering  voice  whose  bitterness 
he  could  not  disguise. 

"  Nay,  venerable  father,  it  is  the  wisdom  of  the 
elect.  The  goddess  has  made  thee  indeed  wiser 
than  thy  generation." 

And  like  a  man  risen  from  a  funeral  pyre 
whilst  yet  the  flames  were  doing  their  work, 
Narayan  Lai  turned  to  his  king  and  faced  him 
upon  his  throne — begrimed,  besmeared,  cold  and 
haughty  and  domineering. 

Then  for  the  third  time  on  the  self -same  day 
126 


Elje    Brriirt    of    tit  e    (Softs 

his  master  tried  him  anew  in  the  very  moment  that 
Narayan  Lai  thought  his  perilous  task  for  the 
day  was  over. 

Without  a  word  the  king  descended  from  his 
throne,  walked  to  the  courtyard,  turned  to  the 
right  and  came  upon  the  adjacent  field. 

But  lo !  what  sight  was  this  upon  the  field !  A 
rectangular  trough,  thirty  cubits  long  and  ten 
wide,  was  dug  in  the  ground.  It  was  filled  with 
burning  fagots.  By  its  broader  side,  towards  the 
west,  stood  a  hillock  of  the  same.  A  crowd  of 
sweating  firemen,  naked  to  the  waist,  fed  the 
trough  from  the  hillock,  and  kept  it  ready  for 
their  master's  use ;  for  they  had  received  his 
command  to  keep  the  fire  burning  bright  in  the 
trough,  though  they  knew  not  for  what  purpose. 
At  intervals  they  cleared  the  ashes  from  the  top 
with  long  rakes,  so  that  the  trough  was  one  level 
surface  of  glowing  charcoal. 

Fifty  cubits  to  the  north  was  the  water-tower 

that  fed  the  fountains  of  the  adjacent  palace 

with  their  hundred  jets.    But  all  this  day  the  jets 

had  been  silent,  so  that  the  water-tower  was  now 

121 


©lye    VtrMrt    nf    1 lj  t    <S0fca 

throbbing  with  pent-up  force ;  instead,  a  single 
pipe  had  been  inserted  at  the  base  of  the  tower, 
ending  in  a  brass  nozzle.  The  nozzle  could  be 
turned  in  a  socket  to  point  upwards,  downwards, 
or  at  any  angle  outwards.  Its  purpose  no  man 
knew. 

Seated  upon  the  dai's  by  the  side  of  the  tower, 
the  king  spoke  to  his  prisoner  before  him  with  a 
veiled  sneer: 

"  Thou  hast  escaped  the  fire  of  thy  own  crea- 
tion. Now  escape  mine!" 

What  hideous  mockery  was  this !  What  brutal 
sport  of  pitiless  Fate  to  let  a  man  escape  one 
deadly  peril,  and  then  forthwith  to  try  him  again 
with  the  same  peril  in  a  deadlier  form ! 

"  Thou  must  cross  the  fiery  gulf,  along  its 
length,  upon  thy  naked  feet,"  the  voice  of  the 
king  spoke  in  relentless  words.  "  Thine  own  fire 
did  not  touch  thy  head.  See  if  mine  will  burn 
thy  feet ! "  And  for  the  first  the  king  laughed 
in  his  bitterness. 

Narayan  Lai  stood  before  him,  silent  and  still. 

"What!  Dost  refuse  the  ordeal?  Dost  fear 
128 


©Ije    Vtrftirt    nf    ttje    (gflba 

the  fire  ?    Then  thou  shalt  perish  by  water."    The 
king  pointed  to  the  brass  nozzle  beside  the  dais. 

Then  all  understood  its  purpose.  If  Narayan 
Lai  refused  the  fiery  ordeal,  the  guards  would 
lay  him  on  his  back  before  the  water-tower,  and 
insert  the  nozzle  downwards  into  his  mouth. 
The  lever  controlling  the  mechanism  would  be 
suddenly  turned,  and  the  piled-up  water  let 
loose  in  all  its  fury  through  the  nozzle.  The 
next  instant  Narayan  Lai  would  be  dead.  .  .  . 

He  bowed  his  head. 

"  What  is  written  upon  my  brow  shall  be  ful- 
filled, the  cruelty  of  man  notwithstanding.  I 
accept  thy  ordeal,  O  King!" 

The  guards  escorted  him  to  the  southern  side 
of  the  burning  trough,  facing  the  king.  At  its 
edge  they  left  him,  and  fell  back  on  either 
side. 

For  one  brief  moment  Narayan  Lai  paused  in 
thought,  then  quickly  took  off  his  tunic;  his 
turban  he  had  left  behind  in  the  palace-hall. . 
Seated  upon  the  ground,  he  rolled  up  his  trou- 
sers to  his  knees.  Suddenly  he  bent  low  his 
129 


OJlje    Urr&irt    af    ilte    (gn&a 

supple  form,  and  reposed  his  head  upon  the 
ground  between  his  feet,  his  long  hair  covering 
the  feet  on  either  side. 

The  shades  of  night  were  now  falling  fast. 
The  multitude  stood  by  the  trough,  twenty 
cubits  afar,  facing  the  hillock.  From  left  to 
right  Narayan  Lai  would  cross — or  perish  in 
the  fiery  gulf.  They  watched  him  keenly. 

At  the  edge  of  the  trough  his  half -nude  form 
glistened  with  rolling  sweat.  He  raised  his 
head  a  moment,  revealing  the  soles  of  his  feet. 
Facing  the  fire,  they  caught  the  heat  full,  and 
seemed  to  crinkle  inwards.  Then  again  Nar- 
ayan Lai  lowered  his  head  upon  them. 

"  He  prays  to  Agni,  the  fire-god !  "  the  mul- 
titude whispered  with  bated  breath. 

" To  give  to  his  feet  the  immunity  of  his 

head!" 

"  See,  he  knocks  his  head  upon  his  feet ! " 

For  now  with  both  hands  laid  upon  his  long 

hair  Narayan  Lai    seemed    to    bow    his    head 

quickly  and  repeatedly  upon  his  feet.     Then 

suddenly  he  leapt  up  and  stood  erect.    For  that 

130 


2Ufe    Herfotri    af    ttj*    (S0b0 

brief  instant  he  seemed  in  the  lurid  glare  to  be 
but  a  bronze  statue.  The  sweat  streamed  down 
his  body  and  wetted  the  ground  beneath  his 
feet.  The  next  instant  he  plunged  into  the 
burning  trough. 

The  first  three  strides  he  took  he  scarce 
seemed  to  touch  the  fire.  Then  suddenly  he 
seemed  to  flounder;  some  treacherous  spot 
seemed  to  yield  beneath  his  tread. 

"He  is  lost!" 

"Run  to  the  side!" 

"No!     Onwards!" 

Ay,  better  to  die  battling  with  the  fire  and 
upon  it,  than  to  perish  impotent  by  water  and 
beneath  it.  It  was  all  done  with  the  quickness 
of  lightning;  with  fire  there  could  be  no  pause 
or  hesitation.  Narayan  lurched  forward, 
reeled,  steadied  himself,  then  with  one  deep 
gulp  of  breath  bounds  onwards.  Did  the 
glowing  embers  crackle  beneath  his  tread  he 
recked  not;  little  red  sparks  shot  up  around 
his  feet — he  heeded  them  not.  With  eyes 
straight  before  him,  teeth  clenched  tight,  nos- 
131 


trils  opened  wide,  he  flew  over  the  trough.  It 
was  one  mad  rush  whilst  yet  the  spectators 
took  but  three  short  breaths.  It  could  not  be 
more.  Within  that  he  must  die  or  conquer. 

He  approached  the  other  end.  At  ten  cubits 
he  vaguely  saw  something  before  him:  at  seven 
he  realised  its  import.  Perchance  some  care- 
less fireman  had  failed  in  his  task  and  had  piled 
there  burning  wood,  not  glowing  embers;  per- 
chance it  was  a  sudden  gust  of  wind;  he  knew 
not.  All  that  he  saw  in  that  instant's  flash  was 
a  million  little  tongues  of  flame  shoot  up  before 
him  like  a  million  spikes. 

One  short  step  to  the  very  edge  of  the  spikes 
and  he  hurled  himself  headlong  through  the 
air — over  the  flaming  zone.  Falling  to  hard 
earth,  he  lay  prone  an  instant;  his  feet,  skim- 
ming the  last  row  of  flames  in  their  fall,  were 
drawn  in  quickly  beneath  him.  Then  stagger- 
ing up,  reeling  forward  like  a  drunken  man,  he 
reached  the  dais;  cast  himself  down  before  it. 

"  Dohai  J  dohai,  O  King ! "  the  words  escaped 
from  his  bursting  lips.  It  was  that  terrible 


£ije    TJeriiri    of    lite    (Sabs 

cry  for  justice,  eternal  justice,  that  the  suprem- 
est  monarch  on  earth  must  heed. 

With  these  words  Narayan  Lai  lay  prone  at 
his  master's  feet,  rigid  and  inert  and  motionless. 
Half  his  task  was  over.  He  still  lived. 

His  master  bowed  his  head.  An  attendant 
approached  with  a  jar,  and  poured  a  stream  of 
cool  olive  oil  upon  Narayan's  feet. 

"  Open  the  flood-gate,"  the  king  bade  again. 

The  nearest  guard  tilted  up  the  nozzle  and 
turned  the  lever  that  controlled  the  piled-up 
water.  There  was  a  short  sharp  hiss;  then  a 
furious  jet,  an  inch  thick  at  the  nozzle,  shot 
out  in  the  air,  expanding.  Sixty  cubits  afar 
it  fell — upon  the  fiery  trough.  In  that  mo- 
ment all  men  realised  the  power  and  the  fury  of 
the  water,  and  inwardly  shuddered,  thinking  of 
the  nameless  death  in  store  for  Narayan  Lai 
had  he  refused  the  fiery  ordeal.  For,  ere  the 
tower  was  half  empty,  the  trough  was  but  a 
sluggish  lake. 

"Carry  him  away,  and  tend  him  well,"  the 
king  spoke  again. 

133 


STlf*    Her&iri    0f    ttj^    (gn&a 

And  at  the  command  the  guards  carried 
Narayan  Lai  away  upon  a  charpoy.  Laying 
him  upon  his  bed,  they  wiped  the  oil  from  his 
feet. 

Lo!  the  soles  were  whole  and  unburnt,  with- 
out even  a  scald ! 

"Verily,  the  mind  is  greater  than  the  body," 
murmured  the  Great  King  from  his  pillow. 
"  Yet  methinks,  in  piling  fire  upon  his  own  head 
he  had  died  in  agonising  torture,  but  for  the 
benevolent  spirit  of  his  dead  father."  This  he 
added  with  a  sigh,  as  he  thought  of  his  own 
hundred  ancestors  and  their  sevenfold  virtues. 

The  Story-teller  was  silent  awhile,  letting  the 
soothing  hope  do  its  work.  The  Great  King 
was  sick  unto  death ;  the  Great  King  might  yet 
be  saved  by  that  hope. 

And  yet,  O  best  beloved  readers,  there  were 
found  evil-minded  detractors  who  doubted  the 
marvellous  nature  of  these  facts.  Away  from 
the  presence  of  the  Great  King,  I  afterwards 
heard  from  the  Story-teller  of  their  foul 


calumnies.  For,  on  the  night  of  the  trial,  when 
the  multitude  had  dispersed  from  the  audience- 
hall,  a  band  of  opium-soaked  besotted  knaves 
were  gathered  together  in  the  den  at  the  out- 
skirts of  the  city.  There,  amid  the  fumes  of 
the  soul-destroying  drug,  their  foul  tongues 
were  loosened. 

"There  is  a  traitor  within  the  palace!"  said 
a  thick-set  man,  with  a  scar  upon  his  nose.  He 
had  once  been  a  housebreaker,  but,  having  been 
caught,  had  been  sentenced  to  have  his  nose 
slit  open  with  a  lancet. 

"  How  knowest  thou  ?  "  asked  another,  hold- 
ing his  hookah  with  his  left  hand.  For  his  right 
hand  had  been  cut  off  for  giving  short  weight 
to  the  poor  in  the  bazaar  where  he  was  a 
bunniah. 

"  Last  night  I  saw  a  man  in  a  beggar's  garb 
leave  the  palace.  Meeting  me  face  to  face,  he 
paused,  put  forth  his  hand  as  if  to  beg  alms, 
then  suddenly  snatched  back  his  hand  and  has- 
tened into  the  darkness.  But,  in  turning,  his 
face  came  full  in  the  light  of  the  beacon  on  the 
135 


OJlt?    BcrMrt    of    Hie    (6  0  i  s 

gate,  and  I  recognised  him.  It  was  Rama 
Krishna!" 

"  Ay,  brothers,"  went  on  a  third  knave,  "  my 
wife,  who  goes  morn  and  night  to  the  palace 
kitchen,  tells  a  wondrous  tale.  This  morn  in 
clearing  away  the  remains  of  Narayan  Lai's 
supper,  she  saw  a  chappati  [unleavened  bread] 
uneaten.  Within  it  was  a  dark  stain,  giving  a 
strong  pungent  odour.  Then  coming  again  in 
the  evening,  whilst  the  juggler  was  away  on  his 
trial,  she  searched  the  room  and  came  upon  a 
small  empty  phial  having  the  same  odour " 

"  Hast  thou  the  phial  ?  "  a  husky  voice  inter- 
rupted the  speaker.  It  was  the  man  that  wore 
his  turban  low  over  his  ear ;  the  same  that  once 
before  had  bought  the  incriminating  palm-leaf 
from  the  scribe  for  a  gold  mohur. 

"In  my  house;  not  with  me."  A  silent 
message  passed  between  the  two  which  the  others 
could  not  understand.  Then  the  speaker 
resumed  his  tale : 

"  And  besides  the  phial  she  also  found  a 
fragment  of  a  fig-leaf  upon  which  were  traces 
136 


©tje    BrrMri    nf    Uj*    <£*&** 

of  a  grey  powder.  She  cast  the  leaf  thought- 
lessly upon  the  kitchen  fire;  and  it  blazed  up 
with  a  sudden  spurt." 

Then  all  around  turned  to  the  man  that  had 
once  been  a  scribe  in  the  bazaar,  and  asked  him 
mockingly,  "Read  to  us  this  riddle,  O  man  of 
much  learning ! " 

Thinking  awhile,  encircled  by  the  opium 
fumes  and  ignoring  the  mockery  in  their  tones, 
the  scribe  answered  them: 

"  It  is  known  to  most  scholars,  and  therefore 
to  expert  jugglers,  that  hair,  jute,  and  certain 
other  fibres  are  rendered  non-inflammable  when 
steeped  in  the  sap  of  the  arakia,  a  rare  plant 
found  only  in  the  higher  elevations  of  the  Terai. 
Narayan  Lai  must  have  often  used  this  sub- 
stance— when  of  his  own  free  will  he  affected 
to  place  fire  upon  his  head ;  hence  he  must  have 
kept  a  constant  supply  of  it  in  his  house. 
Now,  when  did  the  king  seal  up  the  bundle  of 
straw?" 

"The  day  before  the  trial,"  answered  all. 
For  the  king  had  done  this  openly  in  the  hall- 
137 


of -public-audience,  though  he  had  not  revealed, 
his  purpose. 

"  But  Rama  Krishna  is  also  a  scholar,"  went 
on  the  scribe,  revelling  in  his  own  knowledge. 
"Thus  he  guessed  the  king's  purpose,  and 
forthwith  obtained  some  of  the  arakia  from  the 
juggler's  house.  This  he  conveyed  in  the  phial 
to  some  accomplice  in  the  palace.  The  accom- 
plice hid  the  phial  in  the  chappaties  intended 
for  Narayan  Lai's  supper,  and  thus  escaped 
the  vigilance  of  the  guards.  Then  just  before 
the  trial,  the  juggler  rubbed  the  arakia  into  his 
thick  glossy  hair,  and  thus  made  it  immune. 
But  you  have  noticed  in  the  trial,  O  brothers, 
that  his  tunic  was  not  immune;  for  it  was  set 
alight  by  the  falling  sparks." 

"  But  the  grey  powder  ?  "  they  asked,  still 
in  doubt.  "Whence  came  it?" 

The  scribe  opened  wide  his  palms.  "  How  can 
I  tell?  It  is  not  in  the  evidence!"  Yet,  think- 
ing awhile,  he  continued :  "  Methinks  he  always 
had  it;  a  juggler  is  wont  to  carry  hidden  about 
his  person  things  that  he  might  need  at  any 
138 


©If?    Vtrftirt    nf    llj?    <80&a 

moment;  above  all,  the  means  of  making  fire. 
Ask  any  street  urchin  for  the  cracker  he  flings 
upon  the  pavement  with  an  explosion.  You 
will  find  that  it  contains  a  grey  powder  and  bits 
of  broken  glass.  The  powder  alone  by  friction 
will  set  straw  aflame.  Perchance  the  juggler 
carried  some  of  the  powder  hidden  behind  his 
ear.  You  will  have  noticed  that  twice  during 
the  feat  Narayan  Lai  had  the  opportunity  of 
raising  his  hand  to  his  head;  once  in  taking 
off  the  turban,  and  again  just  a  moment  before 
the  flash.  Thus  was  the  powder  reached,  and 
afterwards  mixed  with  the  straw.  Such  is  the 
reading  of  the  riddle,"  the  scribe  concluded. 

"  But  what  of  the  fiery  trough  ?  "  they  asked 
him  disbelievingly.  "  Why  did  that  not  burn 
his  feet?" 

The  scribe  smiled  in  superior  wisdom.  "  Be- 
cause in  feigning  to  bow  his  head  upon  his  feet 
in  prayer  at  the  edge  of  the  trough  he  was 
really  rubbing  the  arakia  from  his  long  hair 
into  the  soles  of  his  feet  and  thus  rendering 
them  immune  likewise.  Besides,  it  is  known  to 
139 


SI;?    Vtrftirt    af    ttye    (Saba 

all  that  if  a  man  were  to  wet  his  hand  and  then 
to  plunge  it  into  molten  iron  and  withdraw  it 
quickly,  within  the  space  of  a  quarter  of  a 
second,  the  hand  would  be  uninjured;  and  this 
he  might  do  repeatedly  if  the  hand  were  wetted 
afresh.  For,  the  great  heat  would  instantly 
transform  the  water  into  steam,  which  would 
form  a  thin  coating  around  the  hand  and  keep 
the  molten  iron  away  for  that  short  interval. 

"  Now,  over  and  above  the  arakia,  the  soles  of 
Narayan  Lai's  feet  were  covered  with  sweat; 
nay,  his  whole  body.  Thus  in  the  act  of  run- 
ning quickly  over  the  fiery  trough  the  sweat 
was  constantly  rolling  down  his  body  and  wet- 
ting the  soles  of  his  feet ;  for,  before  beginning 
the  ordeal,  Narayan  Lai  waited  awhile  at  the 
edge  of  the  trough  till  the  intense  heat  had 
covered  his  body  with  a  hundred  streams  of 
sweat.  Thus,  besides  the  arakia,  he  had  a 
second  protection  to  his  feet."  And  the  scribe 
put  his  lips  to  his  neglected  hookah,  and  refused 
to  speak  further. 

But,  O  best  beloved,  the  scribe  was  a  foul 
140 


®lf*    U0rbirt    0f    life    (g0ba 

calumniator.  For,  in  the  first  case,  if  it  were  a 
material  fire  that  Narayan  Lai  had  produced, 
then  why  did  the  Parsi,  the  fire-worshipper, 
think  it  but  a  red  flower?  And  the  piece  of 
cloth  that  became  a  lizard,  then  a  maize  stalk, 
then  a  gold  chain,  and  back  again  to  cloth — 
was  that  also  done  by  a  mere  material  method, 
such  as  successive  substitution?  Or  was  it  not 
rather  the  triumph  of  a  superior  mind  over  in- 
ferior ones,  the  juggler's  over  those  of  his  spec- 
tators? 

For  of  mere  physical  peril  Narayan  Lai's 
master  had  in  store  for  him  a  full  measure;  a 
deadly  peril  in  which  his  juggler's  art  was  of 
no  avail — an  actual  physical  peril  of  appalling 
magnitude,  to  escape  from  which  it  needed  not 
merely  the  utmost  skill  of  the  human  mind,  but 
also  the  utmost  courage  of  the  human  heart. 


141 


THE    MAGIC    SPELL 


secret  peril  that  had  so  long 
been  hanging  over  Narayan  Lai, 
like  a  sword  held  by  a  single  thread, 
now  fell  upon  him  suddenly  in  the 
very  hour  of  his  hope.  Half  his  task  was  over  ;  so 
far  he  had  conquered,  and  with  the  ever  fulness 
of  a  youthful  heart  had  already  begun  to  hope 
for  ultimate  triumph.  He  did  not  know  the 
tricks  of  Fate! 

Yet,  what  man's  reasoning  is  unable  to  dis- 
cern, woman's  presentiment,  intuition,  premoni- 
tion, is  able  to  foresee.  The  Princess  Devala, 
so  long  immured  in  her  apartments  and  denied 
all  open  communication  with  the  outer  world, 
had  suddenly  been  stricken  with  a  great  fear 
for  her  lover's  life.  So  far,  even  in  his  utmost 
peril,  she  had  never  wavered  in  her  hope.  Now 
for  the  first  time  her  hope  was  shaken  to  its 


very  foundations.  She  tried  to  think,  to  reason ; 
and  thought  and  reason  alike  were  on  the  side 
of  hope.  But  presentiment  was  on  the  side  of 
despair;  and  presentiment  triumphed.  Her 
heart  was  steeped  in  despair. 

And  as  if  relentless  Fate  sought  to  leave  her 
not  a  single  ray  of  light  in  this  ocean  of  dark- 
ness, her  faithful  friend  and  companion,  Leila, 
so  long  hopeful,  buoyant,  jubilant,  was  now 
likewise  stricken  with  a  strange  despondence. 
Forsooth  she  had  a  greater  cause  for  it  than 
her  mistress ;  for  her  fears  had  a  material  shape 
— which  mad  elephants  could  not  make  her 
reveal  to  the  princess.  Then,  seeing  that  all  else 
were  vain  in  battling  with  this  sense  of  impend- 
ing doom,  Leila  went  at  last  to  her  lover.  For 
when  a  woman's  heart  is  in  terror,  whether  it 
be  from  the  demons  of  hell  or  the  lightning  of 
heaven,  she  needs  the  comfort  of  a  man's  strong 
arm. 

In  the  second  watch  of  the  night,  when  the 
guards  had  changed  and  Harnam  Das  was  at 
his  post,  she  came  to  him. 
143 


®tf?    H  ?  r  &  i  r  i    0  f    t  If  ?    <&  0  &  s 

"  Dost  thou  love  me  well?  "  she  asked  of  him. 
"  Dost  thou  love  me  well?  " 

For  an  answer,  Harnam  knelt  at  her  feet  and 
kissed  the  hem  of  her  garment ;  then  arising,  he 
drew  her  to  his  breast  and  enfolded  her  in  his 
embrace. 

"  Dost  thou  love  me  above  all  things?  "  she 
asked  again,  laying  her  hands  upon  his  breast. 

Harnam  Das  touched  the  hilt  of  his  sword — 
then  flung  off  his  hand.  Again  he  laid  his  right 
hand  upon  the  hilt,  and  again  he  flung  it  off. 
The  third  time  the  hand  paused  upon  the  hilt 
— held  it,  clutched  it,  raised  it  to  her  right 
hand. 

It  was  the  homage,  the  fealty,  the  oath  of 
allegiance  he  could  have  given  to  his  sovereign 
alone.  She  touched  the  hilt  with  her  right  hand, 
accepting  the  homage.  Then  to  show  that, 
though  his  queen,  she  was  still  his  slave,  she 
replaced  the  sword,  took  his  hands  in  hers,  kissed 
them,  and  held  them  to  her  breast.  Then  sud- 
denly she  released  them,  stepped  back,  and 
faced  him  full. 

144 


Slje    TJer&trt    of    tlje    (Bn&s 

"Thou  hast  said  it!  Thou  hast  proved  it! 
Have  I  thy  promise?" 

"Thou  hast  my  promise,  my  oath,  my  hom- 
age. Command  me." 

Her  voice  changed.  The  tension  of  her 
nerves  gave  way.  So  long  she  had  held  up  her 
heart.  Now  the  bands  of  strength  that  had 
encircled  it  snapped  like  reeds. 

She  laid  her  head  wearily  upon  his  breast. 
"  Save  my  mistress.  She  is  pining  to  death.  I 
am  impotent  to  aid  her  in  her  heart's  desire — 
to  prove  her  lover's  innocence.  But  thou " 

"I  too  am  impotent!"  A  vague  apprehen- 
sion was  creeping  over  him.  What  was  this 
she  was  asking  of  him — subtly  insinuating? 
"Wouldst  thou  have  me  betray  my  master's 
trust?" — he  flung  her  off  from  him  in  the 
moment's  impulse — "wouldst  have  me  perjure 
my  soul?" 

She  answered  him  face  to  face.     "Ay — if 

thou  dost  love  me!"     She  stood  erect  before 

him,  her  veil  fallen  from  her  face,  her  hair 

streaming  behind  her,  her  hands  cast  up  before 

145 


her.  She  was  like  unto  an  avenging  goddess. 
Only  her  heaving  breast  betrayed  in  her  the 
affrighted  maiden. 

"  If  thou  didst  love  me,  thou  wouldst  fight 

against  hell  in  arms   for  my  sake "     She 

turned  her  head  quickly,  and  glanced  behind 
her.  A  faint  sound,  as  of  a  deep-drawn  breath, 
trickled  into  her  ear  out  of  the  dark  corridor. 
A  cold  shiver  passed  over  her  frame,  as  if  a 
wind  from  a  sepulchre  had  struck  into  her 
bones. 

She  brought  her  lips  to  her  lover's  ear,  and 
poured  into  it  hot  panting  words.  "  Even  as  I 
now  fight  against  a  palace  In  arms!  " 

He  started.  A  dim  light  was  breaking  upon 
his  vision,  so  long  obscured. 

"  Tell  it  to  me." 

"  I  know  not  what  it  is "     She  glanced 

around  her  wildly.  A  while  ago,  in  fighting  her 
own  battles  singled-handed,  she  had  played  the 
man,  the  man  of  blood  and  iron.  Now  beside 
her  lover  she  had  become  a  weak  fragile  woman, 
trembling  like  a  frightened  deer. 
146 


Slf*    Her&irt    af    t$t    (Safca 

"  Unseen  footsteps  pursue  me.  Swift  shadows 
start  up  from  behind  pillars  and  colonnades, 
dog  my  footsteps,  overtake  me,  envelop  me,  then 
vanish  in  the  dark.  I  hear  muttered  curses 
around  me,  threatening  my  life.  But  yesterday 
I  was  at  my  meal.  Ere  I  took  a  mouthful,  the 
hill  myna  thou  didst  give  me  flew  down  from  its 
perch  and  rested  on  my  arm.  It  pecked  at  a 
ripe  red  mango,  flew  back  to  its  perch — flut- 
tered its  wings,  then  dropped  down  dead.  A 
poisoned  fruit,  remember!  None  but  a  fiend 
with  the  knowledge  of  all  jehannum  could  have 
done  that.  .  .  .  And  not  my  life  alone!  Oh, 
how  can  I  tell  thee?  Turn  away  thy  face,  and 
spare  me  the  shame  of  my  eyes ! "  She  laid  her 
head  upon  his  shoulder  so  that  she  could  whis- 
per into  his  ear,  her  face  unseen. 

A  broken  sob  struggled  through  her  lips. 
"  Wouldst  thou  have  me  in  bridal — bereft  of  the 
flower  of  my  virtue  ?  " 

His  jaws  came  down  like  a  vice,  his  hand 
clutched  at  the  hilt  of  the  sword — his  finger- 
nails burying  themselves  deep  into  the  palm,  un- 
147 


3tff*    Urr&Ui    0f    til*    (Softs 

consciously.  "  Go  on ! "  he  muttered  between  his 
breath.  "  Tell  me  all !" 

"The  night  before  the  attempt  on  my  life  I 
was  passing  a  dark  corridor.  As  I  approached 
a  pillar  a  thick  blanket  descended  upon  me  from 
nowhere,  a  rough  hand  fell  upon  my  mouth 
over  the  blanket,  another  upon  my  belt — be- 
neath the  blanket."  For  Leila  was  a  "  belted 
woman,"  a  maiden  whose  duty  it  was  to  wear  a 
belt  from  her  childhood  in  symbol  alike  of  her 
birth  and  her  virtue ;  a  girdle  that  no  man  might 
touch,  save  her  wedded  spouse. 

"  Go  on !  Do  not  fear ! "  It  was  a  pent-up 
volcano  that  spoke  beside  her  in  forced  calm- 
ness. 

"Nay,  I  was  spared.  The  man  dragged  me 
through  the  corridor ;  but  even  as  he  was  lifting 
me  over  the  steps  before  a  threshold,  my  belt 
gave  way;  I  slipped  though  his  arm  and  fell 
upon  the  floor.  For  that  single  instant  my 
mouth  was  released  from  his  other  hand;  I 
emptied  my  heart  in  one  piercing  shriek.  The 
sound  of  hurrying  footsteps,  the  clamour  of  ap- 
148 


U?rfciri    nf    tlje    (gflfta 

preaching  voices — and  the  man  whipped  off  the 
blanket  and  fled  down  the  corridor.  When  the 
eunuchs  reached  me,  I  was  voiceless.  They  mar- 
velled, thinking  I  had  seen  a  spirit." 

"None  whom  thou  dost  suspect?" 

She  wavered.  "  Yes ;  let  me  tell  thee  all. 
That  night  I  came  to  thee  with  the  sweetmeats 
a  shadow  pounced  upon  me.  .  .  .  Save  for  my 
dagger,  I  had  been  undone.  But  now  seek  for 
a  man  with  a  scar  upon  his  cheek  or  ear — I  know 
not  which." 

Harnam  Das  bowed  his  head.  Then  stretch- 
ing forth  his  hand  to  the  armoury  on  the  wall 
beside  him  he  took  down  three  daggers;  small, 
but  of  the  finest  Jeypur  make. 

"  Meanwhile  take  these.  One  for  thyself ;  one 
for  thy  mistress — if  the  verdict  of  the  gods  be 
against  her.  The  third  to  hold  for  a  sudden 
need,  if  thou  shouldst  lose  the  first.  Now  go  in 
peace.  But  tell  me  first :  what  wouldst  thou 
have  me  do  ?  " 

"  Guard  thy  prisoner  from  unseen  perils!  For 
the  hour  of  his  next  trial  is  at  hand.  If  he  dies, 
149 


Site    HUrMrt    nf    t  It  c    (S 

my  mistress  dies  likewise.     And  I?     I  go  with 
my  mistress!     Dost  thou  understand  me?" 

Harnam  Das  paused  awhile,  then  bowed  his 
head.  "  It  is  written.  Kismet,  fate !  Mine  and 
thine !  .  .  .  I  believe  at  last  that  he  is  innocent ; 
my  love  for  thee  has  made  me  believe.  But  I 
owe  a  duty  to  my  king,  and  consciously  shall 
permit  none  to  aid  and  abet  him  to  escape. 
Yet  that  very  duty  bids  me  guard  him  from 
perils  that  my  master  does  not  forsee.  Now 
go  in  peace.  He  is  at  least  safe  in  my  charge." 

The  next  morn  Narayan  Lai's  master  sent 
word  to  him  in  his  dungeon: 

"Thou  must  find  the  Temple  of  the  Manik, 
enter  it,  and  fetch  me  the  precious  gem  that  lies 
therein.  Within  the  hour  must  thou  set  forth. 
Pray  meanwhile." 

Know,  O  Joy  of  the  Palace  (said  the  Story- 
teller unto  the  Great  King),  that  of  all  gems  the 
manik  is  the  most  precious.  Heap  diamond 
upon  ruby,  ruby  upon  sapphire,  sapphire  upon 
emerald,  emerald  upon  opal,  opal  upon  ame- 
150 


U*r&iri    of    ilf*    (gobs 

thyst,  and  the  heap  will  be  to  a  single  manik 
as  a  glimmering  oil-lamp  to  the  noonday  sun. 
Such  is  the  virtue  of  that  mystic  gem. 

The  manik  of  my  tale  was  given  by  one  of  the 
gods  to  a  great  hero  of  antiquity.  But  he  hav- 
ing sinned  grievously  against  his  benefactor, 
a  monstrous  serpent  came  out  of  the  jungle 
and  devoured  him  and  the  gem  he  wore. 

Yet  so  great  was  the  hardness  of  the  stone 
that  it  stuck  in  the  serpent's  throat,  and  even- 
tually forced  its  way  to  its  head;  so  that  when 
it  roamed  about  the  jungle  the  gem  shone  like 
a  beacon-light. 

Soon  a  mighty  prince  arose,  who  was  also  a 
magician  learned  in  mystic  lore.  He  slew  the 
serpent  and  obtained  possession  of  the  manik.1 

1  The  terrible  cobra-di-capello  is  popularly  believed 
in  India  to  be  the  lineal  descendant  of  this  serpent. 
Probably  the  legend  arose  from  the  spectacled  marking 
on  the  cobra's  head,  which  was  deemed  to  be  the  setting 
for  this  stone.  Most  of  the  historic  gems  that  have 
come  out  of  India  have  similar  legends  attached  to  their 
origin,  e.g.,  the  Koh-i-noor,  the  Orloff  Diamond  (on  the 
Russian  sceptre),  the  Pitt,  the  Regent,  etc. 
151 


SI;*    lerfciri    nf    ill*    (gn&a 

But  that  gem  was  a  curse — the  curse  of  the 
ingratitude  of  its  first  human  owner.  The 
prince  was  seized  with  an  incurable  disease.  He 
made  vows  to  every  shrine  in  the  land,  and  yet 
was  not  healed. 

Then  in  despair  he  listened  to  the  doctrines 
of  a  new  faith,  an  heretical  faith  that  had  just 
arisen,  and  was  induced  to  bestow  the  gem  upon 
its  false  god,  a  one-eyed  god. 

Thou  knowest,  O  Protector  of  the  Faith, 
that  at  the  sources  of  the  Ganges  are  the  sacred 
shrines  of  Hardwar.  What  is  not  so  well  known 
in  these  latter  days  is  that  at  the  sources  of  the 
Jumna — which  is  only  three  days'  march  from 
the  Ganges — there  is  another  shrine,  but  now 
buried  beneath  the  ashes  of  Time.  Even  its 
probable  situation  is  merely  guessed  at  from  a 
gigantic  eminence  in  the  depth  of  the  forest, 
under  which  it  is  supposed  to  lie. 

This  prince  built  the  temple  for  his  false  god, 

to  whom  he  had  given  the  manik  as  an  eye.   He 

selected  the  site  so  carefully  that  it  could  only 

be  approached  from  one  side    along    a    dark 

152 


ravine.  That  ingress  is  now  probably  lost  in 
the  growth  of  the  jungle. 

Likewise,  he  took  such  means  for  the  safety 
of  the  gem  itself,  that  anyone  attempting  to 
despoil  the  god  should  die  an  instant  death. 
And  lest  perchance  those  who  made  the  con- 
trivance that  secured  this  end  should  reveal  it 
to  others,  he  slew  them  with  his  own  hand. 

Yet  because  of  his  own  perfidy  in  forsaking 
the  gods  of  his  birth,  his  disease  was  not  cured. 
He  died  in  violent  agony,  crying  out  at  the 
moment  of  death  in  vain  remorse  that  until  a 
man  was  born — who,  having  received  favours, 
was  not  guilty  of  ingratitude — no  human  hand 
should  own  that  gem.  And  it  is  whispered  to 
this  day  that  his  spirit  guards  the  gem  from 
generation  to  generation  in  whatever  incarna- 
tion he  may  be,  human  or  bestial.  No  man  has 
entered  that  temple  and  come  back  alive. 

Now    Narayan    Lai,  having    received    many 

favours,  was  accused  of  the  basest  ingratitude. 

Also  thou  knowest,  O    Seat    of    Wisdom,  that 

once  a  curse  is  uttered  by  the  gods,  it  remains 

153 


Herfcirt    nf    ifye    (Snfcs 

in  force  until  its  cause  is  removed — even  though 
centuries  should  have  elapsed. 

So,  if  Narayan  Lai  was  guilty  of  ingratitude, 
the  curse  of  the  manik  would  fall  upon  him. 
Moreover,  unless  divinely  aided  because  of  his 
innocence,  he  would  die  a  terrible  death  the 
moment  he  touched  the  eye  of  the  god.  For  in 
itself  the  venture  was  full  of  the  deepest  peril. 
Thus  reasoned  Narayan  Lai's  master,  and 
bade  him  set  forth  to  the  temple  within  the 
hour. 

And  within  the  hour  a  tall  white-bearded 
form,  enveloped  in  a  long  shawl,  stole  up  to  the 
guard  at  the  prison  door. 

"I  am  his  guru,"  he  whispered,  pointing  to 
Kali's  vermilion  upon  his  brow.  "  He  is  in 
danger  of  death.  The  king  bids  him  pray.  I 
am  here  to  pray  with  him." 

The  guard  bowed  his  head  to  the  royal  word, 
and  allowed  him  entrance. 

Softly  the  guru  closed  the  door  after  him, 
glancing  quickly  around  to  note  the  solitary 
window  high  up  near  the  roof. 
154 


Herftiri    nf    Itfe    (Snfta 

"  Whence  is  this  to  me,  that  my  master  should 
deign  to  come  to  the  hovel  of  his  slave?"  mur- 
mured the  youth,  casting  himself  at  the  guru's 
feet. 

But  the  high  priest  raised  him  from  the 
ground,  saying: 

"  The  gods  grant  that  the  day  may  come 
when  I  shall  kneel  to  thee."  Then  seeing  the 
look  of  wonder  upon  the  other's  face,  he  hastily 
checked  the  dawning  hope.  "  Nay,  my  son, 
that  comes  after — if  it  ever  comes ;  pray  that  it 
may.  But  now  I  am  here  for  thy  more  immedi- 
ate need." 

,   With  skinny  hands  he  brought  out  a  musty 
scroll  from  under  his  shawl. 

"  This  book  might  guide  thee  in  thy  new  ven- 
ture," he  said  to  the  youth.  "  It  contains  tradi- 
tions handed  down  from  countless  ages,  written 
down  from  book  to  book  when  each  was  in 
tatters.  Thou  knowest  that  it  is  one  of  the 
duties  of  our  order  to  preserve  public  ar- 
chives." 

He   turned  over   the  yellow   leaves,   peering 
155 


Sly?    ISUrfctri    0f    ily*    (gn&s 

under  his  whitened  brows  for  the  place  he 
sought. 

"A  few  words  only;  with  that  thou  must  be 
content.  It  is  written  that  when  the  builder  of 
that  temple  was  on  his  death-bed,  he  cried  out 
in  delirium  some  incoherent  words  that  his 
friends  heard,  but  could  not  understand." 

Then  lowering  his  voice  to  a  low  impressive 
whisper,  he  read  these  words : 

" '  Where  falls  the  light  .  .  .  third  from  the 
full9 

"  What  the  last  words  mean,  I  know  not,"  he 
continued.  "  The  first,  thou  must  find.  But  it 
is  also  written  that  that  prince  died  on  the  night 
of  the  full  moon  following  the  festival  of  Kali. 
So,  whatever  the  words  may  mean,  I  would  pray 
thee  to  make  the  attempt  on  the  third  night  after 
the  full  moon  following  the  night  of  Kali,  which 
is  now  at  hand.  And  I  will  beseech  the  benign 
goddess  to  help  thee  that  night  against  evil 
spirits." 

Then  without  a  word,  and  ere  Narayan  Lai 
knew  of  his  purpose,  the  guru  passed  his  right 
156 


Herfcirt    0f    tire    (Bubs 

hand  over  the  youth's  face,  holding  a  small  dark 
phial  in  the  hand.  With  a  sudden  gasp  the 
youth  took  in  the  strong  odour  in  a  single 
breath,  reeled,  fell  backwards  to  the  ground. 
But  the  guru  caught  him  up  ere  he  reached  the 
floor,  raised  him  up,  and  laid  him  tenderly  on 
the  couch. 

Narayan  lay  motionless  and  still,  breath- 
ing scarce  perceptibly ;  then  gradually  he 
began  to  move  restlessly  from  side  to  side, 
his  breath  coming  irregularly  in  spasmodic 
gasps. 

Gently  the  guru  placed  his  hands  upon  the 
youth's  head  and  face,  soothing  the  disturbing 
spirit.  At  last  it  seemed  laid  to  rest.  The 
limbs  lay  limp  and  inert  upon  the  bed,  the  res- 
piration was  slow  and  measured,  the  pulsation 
regular  and  mechanical.  The  guru  raised  the 
eyelids,  first  the  one  and  then  the  other,  and 
gazed  upon  them. 

The  eyeballs  had  turned  upwards,  so  that  the 
pupils  lay  hidden  beneath  the  brows. 

Then   sitting   down   by   the   bed,   the   guru 
157 


oilte    Her&irt    of    tt;e    (Bnfcs 

breathed  upon  the  sleeper's  face,  and  began  to 
question  him  in  a  low  monotone. 

"What  seest  thou?" 

A  sudden  quiver  shot  through  the  youth's  en- 
tire frame,  as  if  he  were  seized  with  an  ague  fit. 

"  What  seest  thou  ?  "  came  the  question  again, 
in  a  deep  relentless  voice. 

Mechanically  the  lips  opened,  and  the  sleeper 
answered  in  a  high  petulant  voice  like  a  fractious 
child: 

"  A  black  cloud.     It  is  all  darkness." 

"  See  again.  Lift  the  veil.  Seek  among 
caverns  and  pools  and  ravines — a  thousand 
years  ago !  " 

Suddenly  the  youth  started.  He  spoke  in  a 
low  frightened  whisper: 

"  The  Speckled  Band!  " 

"What  is  her  rank?" 

"  The  Queen  of  the  Serpent  Brood!  " 

"  What  is  her  crown  ?  " 

"  The  Gem  of  Life!  " 

Then  the  old  man  breathed  anew  upon  his 
face. 

158 


Herfcirt    af    tlj*    (Safca 

"What  seest  thou?  " 

"  The  Magic  Prince!  " 

"  Where  stands  he  now  ?  " 

"  In  the  Cavern  of  a  Thousand  Nights." 

"What  faces  him  there?  " 

"  The  Serpent-Queen,  guarding  her  crown." 

"Who  wins?" 

"  The  Magic  Prince — slaying  the  Serpent- 
Queen!  " 

"Who  takes  the  gem?" 

"  The  Magic  Prince." 

Once  again  he  breathed  upon  the  sleeper's 
face,  deeper,  longer. 

"What  seest  thou?" 

"  The  Temple  of  Ten  Thousand  Pillars!  " 

"  Who  owns  the  fane?  " 

"  The  One-eyed  God!  " 

"What  is  his  eye?" 

"  The  Gem  of  Life!  " 

"Who  placed  it  there?" 

"  The  Magic  Prince." 

"Forever?" 

"  For  ever!  " 

159 


®!f?    Uerfctri    af    ilj*    (Snba 

"  Who  robs  the  gem ?  " 

"  Z>^5  from  the  suspended  axe!  " 

"  But  he  who  hung  it  there?  " 

"  First  pulled  the  catch  that  stayed  the  axe!  " 

"  Where  stands  the  secret?  " 

"  Where  falls  the  light  from  the  false  God's 
nostrils.'9 

"  Who  now  guards  the  fane  ?  " 

"  The  Spirit  of  the  Serpent-Queen." 

?  Can  she  harm  thee?  " 

"  Ay,  to  grind  my  bones  to  dust  in  her  coils!  " 

"What  talisman  to  save  thee  from  her 
coils?" 

"  None— but  that  of  Love!  " 

"  Then,  sleeper,  awake ! "  the  guru  cried, 
emptying  his  breath  in  one  deep  gust  over  the 
youth's  face.  "  For  none  other  can  save  thee 
from  thy  fate !  " 

With  a  start  Narayan  Lai  awoke  from  his 
dream,  remembering  nothing  of  what  he  had 
dreamt.  But  the  guru  told  him  all. 

"  Go,  my  son,  to  meet  thy  destiny.  That 
which  is  written  upon  thy  brow  from  the  hour  of 
160 


SIi?   Vtritiri    nf   ttje    (gobs 

thy  birth  shall  be  fulfilled — demons  and  devils, 
savage  beasts  and  human  brutes,  ay,  thunder 
and  earthquake  notwithstanding."  Saying  this, 
the  guru  departed. 

But  scarce  had  he  left,  and  whilst  yet  the 
guard  was  showing  him  out,  a  small  roll  of  dried 
plantain-leaves  fell  into  Narayan  Lai's  room 
from  across  the  doorway.  But  that  roll  reached 
the  ground  with  a  thud  that  leaves  alone  could 
not  make.  Marvelling  exceedingly,  the  young 
man  opened  it. 

It  was  a  small  dagger  of  the  finest  Jeypur 
make.  And  with  swimming  eyes  he  read  these 
words  inside  the  leaves : 

"  For  the  eye  of  the  false  god.  This  dagger 
hath  a  twin — which  will  find  its  sheath  in  its 
owner's  heart,  if  thou  dost  not  return." 

"  And  this  in  mine,  if  I  fail,"  murmured  the 
youth,  pressing  his  beloved's  gift  to  his  lips 
fervently. 

Outside,  in  escorting  the  high  priest  out,  the 
161 


®lj*    Eer&irt    of    tlje    (Snfca 

guard  came  upon  a  waiting-maid  hurrying 
through  the  corridor,  He  guessed  that  from 
her  garb ;  for  her  face  was  veiled.  Her  mission 
there  he  knew  not — and  perchance  was  loth  to 
ask.  , 


162 


IN    THE    GRIP    OF    THUGS 

^  j^  ITHIN  the  hour  of  the  king's  com- 
m  IP  ^m  man(^  Narayan  Lai  was  brought 
%^  I  f  before  his  master.  Under  an  es- 
cort of  fifty  men  commanded  by 
Harnam  Das,  he  was  bidden  to  set  forth  to  the 
hills  in  search  of  the  Temple  of  the  Manik. 

Ten  days'  march  would  take  him  there;  ten 
days  he  might  spend  in  his  venture;  ten  days 
more  would  bring  him  back.  At  the  end  of  the 
month  he  must  place  the  gem  in  his  master's 
hand. 

"  If  thou  are  killed  in  the  Temple,  thy  sins 
will  have  found  thee  out.  If  thou  darest  not  to 
enter,  my  men  will  return  with  thy  head."  Thus 
bade  the  king  as  they  departed. 

That  night  a  silent  figure  stole  out  of  the 
palace  from  the  furthest  wing.  None  saw  him 
163 


®  If  *    Herfciri    0  f    i  Ij  ?    <S  0  i  a 

leave — so  he  thought.  Three  hours  later  a  red 
glare  leapt  into  the  sky  from  a  plateau  that 
began  its  rise  twelve  miles  away,  but  which 
extended  still  further  northwards. 

"  The  first  night's  encampment,"  they  said  at 
the  palace.  And  when  afterwards  for  five 
nights,  gazing  from  the  watch-tower  of  the 
palace,  they  saw  the  fire  further  and  further 
away,  they  truly  felt  that  it  marked  the  line  of 
Narayan's  march. 

Thus  knowing  what  the  fools  would  believe, 
the  man  who  had  stolen  out  chuckled  to  himself 
and  returned  boldly  to  the  palace  an  hour  before 
daybreak. 

But  nearing  the  outer  wall,  he  suddenly 
stumbled  upon  something  in  the  dark.  It  was 
a  mendicant  sitting  upon  the  ground,  with  his 
back  to  the  wall,  counting  his  beads  silently. 

The  jemadar  cursed  him  beneath  his  breath, 
then  crept  into  the  palace.  But  the  mendicant, 
smiling  grimly,  leapt  to  his  feet  and  vanished 
into  the  dark — towards  the  plateau. 

Meanwhile  Narayan  Lai  and  his  guards  had 
164 


reached  the  foot  of  the  hills.  The  country  grew 
wilder  and  more  rugged.  Dense  jungles  and 
dark  ravines  alternated  with  yawning  chasms 
and  sudden  precipices.  Giant  trees,  piercing 
the  clouds,  towered  on  the  sloping  hillside  in 
solitary  grandeur.  Volcanic  boulders  of  awful 
dimensions,  wrenched  from  the  mountain  by 
some  colossal  upheaval  in  the  past,  rested  in 
unstable  equilibrium  where  they  had  fallen. 

Out  in  the  far  distance,  on  the  ninth  day,  they 
discerned  the  faint  outlines  of  a  gigantic  emi- 
nence. It  might  have  been  some  patriarchal  ban- 
yan-tree covering  many  an  acre,  or  some  bygone 
edifice  over  and  above  whose  dilapidated  form 
there  grew  in  tangled  heap  the  forest  progeny 
of  many  centuries. 

Towards  evening  they  came  within  clear  vision 
of  the  eminence — and  there  stopped.  There 
was  no  passage  beyond.  It  was  all  a  dense 
mass  of  bush  and  jungle. 

For  a  while  they  were  puzzled,  disconcerted. 
Then  a  sharp  turn  to  the  west  revealed  a  steep 
declivity  that  in  the  prehistoric  past  might  have 
165 


@f|?    Uerfciri    nf    tltr    ©nia 

been  a  pathway.  Along  this  they  threaded  their 
way  in  single  file,  till,  they  came  to  a  sudden 
fall. 

The  earth  lay  beneath  their  feet  in  a  long  dark 
ravine.  It  was  so  narrow  that  a  mountain - 
goat  might  not  turn  within  its  base. 

"  Thus  far  we  go,  and  no  further,"  spoke  the 
leader  of  the  guards.  "  Thy  mission  lies  yon- 
der. We  wait  for  thee  here." 

Narayan  Lai  could  find  no  immediate  answer. 
He  had  eleven  days  yet  in  which  to  make  the 
attempt;  the  sooner  he  began,  the  better.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  moon  was  only  eight  days 
old ;  six  more  would  bring  it  to  the  full.  The 
third  from  the  full  was  nine  days  off.  If  he 
failed  on  that  night,  there  would  still  be  two 
days  left — if  he  survived. 

"  I,  too,  wait — awhile,"  answered  Narayan 
Lai. 

They  returned  to  the  mouth  of  the  declivity, 
and  finding  a  large  sal  tree  half  a  mile  beyond, 
pitched  their  tents  beneath  it. 

On  the  evening  of  the  seventh  day — that  is, 
166 


uFlf?    Herfcirt    0f    ilf?    (goba 

two  days  before  Narayan  Lai  could  attempt  the 
search  for  the  gem — they  escorted  him  to  the 
ravine,  placing  two  resinous  torches  in  his  hands 
to  guide  his  path. 

"  If  I  am  not  with  you  again  on  the  third 
night,"  he  told  the  guards,  "  count  me  dead." 

With  that  he  descended  into  the  gully,  whilst 
the  guards  returned  to  their  tents,  knowing  that 
there  was  no  egress  for  Narayan  Lai,  save  past 
them.  But  for  greater  security  Harnam  Das, 
the  captain  of  the  guards,  posted  five  men  at  the 
very  mouth  of  the  ravine;  for,  struck  by  a 
strange  presentiment,  he  sought  to  close  it  not 
merely  from  exit  but  also  from  the  ingress  of 
unknown  foes.  The  five  men  sat  down  under  a 
peepul-tree  at  the  mouth  of  the  ravine,  smoking 
their  hookahs — till  they  were  to  be  relieved  by 
their  comrades  half  a  mile  away. 

Narayan  Lai  threaded  his  way  through  the 
stony  gorge;  risked  breaking  his  neck  circuit- 
ing a  huge  boulder  that  jutted  out  from  the  hill- 
side like  a  giant's  clenched  fist,  fingers  down- 
wards ;  floundered  ankle-deep  in  mud  over  an 
167 


Ely*    Ber&Ut    nf    tli*    05050 

ancient  river-bed,  climbed  with  slippery  feet  a 
narrow  winding  ledge  on  the  other  side,  and  dis- 
appeared from  the  sight  of  the  guards.  .  .  . 

The  shades  of  night  had  fallen ;  the  earth  was 
wrapped  in  darkness.  At  the  second  watch,  at 
the  hour  of  midnight,  Harnam  Das  came  with 
four  of  his  comrades  to  relieve  the  five  guards 
at  the  mouth  of  the  ravine.  A  hundred 
cubits  afar  he  gave  the  sign;  but  there  was  no 
countersign  in  response.  Coming  nearer,  he 
saw  by  the  flickering  fire  of  dried  leaves  the  men 
had  enkindled  that  they  were  all  reclining  upon 
the  ground.  At  twenty  paces  he  repeated  the 
sign ;  but  still  there  was  no  answer.  With 
vague  apprehension  he  drew  nigh. 

The  five  men  were  all  reclining  on  their  right 
side,  their  legs  doubled  up  beneath  them  as  when 
seated  upon  the  ground,  the  head  of  each  resting 
upon  the  earth  on  its  right  side.  The  right 
hand  of  each  still  clutched  the  hookah. 

They  were  all  dead! 

He  felt  each  body:  it  was  still  warm.  He 
168 


©ij?    Herfciri    nf    tl??    <&0&0 

glanced  at  the  fire :  it  was  flickering  low ;  might 
have  been  tended  two  hours  ago.  He  touched 
each  chillum  (bowl)  of  the  hookahs;  it  was 
quite  cold. 

The  men  had  died  an  hour  ago,  perhaps  more. 
But  less  than  two. 

He  examined  each  body  in  detail  to  discover 
the  cause  of  death;  and  scarce  had  he  raised 
the  head  from  the  earth,  when  the  cause  of  death 
was  all  too  clear. 

On  the  left  side  of  the  neck  there  was  a  deep 
wound,  severing  the  jugular  vein.  A  sharp 
thrust  downwards  with  a  dagger  or  a  sword 
might  have  made  the  wound.  The  assassin 
might  have  stood  before  his  victim  in  dealing 
the  blow.  But  Harnam  Das  examined  each 
face,  and  found  it  calm  and  serene,  with  no  fear 
of  death  upon  it.  Death  had  been  painless 
and  instantaneous.  The  assassin  could  not 
have  approached  his  victim  from  the  front. 

From  the  back?  That  was  only  possible  if 
the  blow  had  been  dealt  with  the  left  hand. 
But  were  the  five  assassins,  who  had  approached 
169 


©ff*    lUrfcirt    0f    ilf*    (gain 

their  victims  from  the  back  simultaneously,  all 
left-handed?  That  was  scarce  probable.  Har- 
nam  Das  scrutinised  the  ground  behind  each, 
but  the  hard  earth  yielded  no  trace  of  an  ad- 
vancing or  receding  foot-print. 

"  From  above ! "  a  deep  guttural  voice  an- 
swered him  from  the  darkness  of  the  night. 

With  quickening  breath  a  tall  gaunt  form 
emerged  from  the  forest.  It  was  Rama 
Krishna. 

"  Am  I  too  late  ?  "  Then  glancing  quickly  at 
each  face  of  the  dead,  and  seeing  that  Narayan 
Lai  was  not  numbered  among  them,  a  deep  sigh 
of  relief  burst  from  his  panting  lips. 

"  It  is  fate — kismet ! "  he  said  to  the  guards, 
bowing  his  head.  "  I  was  hastening  up  from 
the  plains  below  to  avert  this  " — waving  his 
hand  to  the  dead — "  but  now  let  us  avenge  it !  " 

"  But  say,  whose  work  is  it?  "  Harnam  Das 
asked  of  him,  clutching  at  the  hilt  of  his  sword. 

In  answer  the  pundit  lit  a  torch  at  the  fire  and 
silently  went  to  the  rear  of  the  peepul-tree 
beneath  which  they  stood.  There,  at  the  back 
170 


®if*    H?r&irt    af    life    (gains 

of  the  trunk,  he  bent  his  eye  to  the  ground;  in 
vain;  the  parched  earth  refused  a  clue.  Then 
circling  round  towards  the  mouth  of  the  ravine, 
he  suddenly  stopped  and  motioned  to  Harnam 
Das  to  approach.  There,  just  beyond  the  shel- 
ter of  the  tree,  the  earth  was  soft  with  recent 
rain.  Naked  footprints !  Each  pointing  to  the 
ravine.  How  many  they  could  scarce  tell;  for 
the  footprints  were  in  single  file. 

The  pundit  returned  to  the  tree  a  moment, 
glancing  upwards.  Just  above  the  dead  guards 
a  network  of  branches  met  his  gaze.  The 
guards  had  chosen  that  spot  beneath  for  the 
protection  the  branches  afforded  them  from  the 
rain ;  but  that  very  fact  had  been  their  undoing. 
The  branches  were  scarce  ten  feet  away. 

"  Within  reach  of  a  lance  thrust !  "  muttered 
the  pundit.  "  As  the  men  sat  beneath,  they  were 
within  seven  feet  of  the  boughs ;  and  when  they 
turned  their  heads  to  pull  at  their  hookahs,  they 
bared  their  necks — at  the  vital  part.  A  simul- 
taneous thrust  from  above,  and  they  died  with- 
out a  cry." 

171 


©ff?    Vtrdirt    nf    tl??    (Snfca 

"  But  from  whom?     Dost  suspect " 

"Thugs!" 

And  at  the  single  word  Harnam  Das  started. 
But  already  the  pundit  was  back  to  the  ravine. 

"  Whither  goest  thou?  " 

"  To  the  rescue — and  to  vengeance !  If  thou 
dost  know  thy  duty,  thou  wilt  come  likewise ! " 

"  I  come,"  Harnam  answered  shortly.  He 
motioned  to  his  men,  and  three  of  them  followed 
him;  the  fourth  returned  to  the  encampment  to 
bring  up  a  fresh  patrol. 

"  How  many  are  they  ?  "  Harnam  asked  after 
awhile. 

"  Perhaps  five,  perhaps  fifty,"  the  pundit 
answered.  "  Five  entered  the  ravine  to-night. 
How  many  more  were  waiting  within  I  know 
not." 

Harnam  Das  glanced  at  his  slender  force: 
four  armed  men  in  all !  The  pundit  shrugged  his 
shoulders  impatiently. 

"  Wouldst  fight  with  swords  against  Thugs  ? 
I  tell  thee,  thou  must  fight  with  thy  head,  not 
thy  right  arm.  These  are  crafty  men,  full  of 
172 


Slje    Uer&irt    u  f    ttje    (6  0  &  s 

tricks  and  stratagems.  We  must  fight  them 
with  stratagem  as  deep,  not  with  brute  force. 
Now  come ! " 

They  circuited  round  the  boulder,  crossed  the 
ancient  river-bed,  gained  the  narrow  ledge 
opposite,  and  vanished  behind  it. 

Meanwhile  let  us  follow  Narayan  Lai  in  his 
perilous  task. 

When  Narayan  Lai  left  the  ravine  he  knew  not 
which  way  to  turn.  The  ledge  on  which  he 
stood  divided  at  that  point.  On  his  right  was 
a  gradual  slope  upwards  sparsely  dotted  with 
trees ;  on  his  left  a  pathway  downwards,  leading 
to  a  cluster  of  dense  jungle  and  bushes.  He 
chose  the  upward  course.  After  a  while  the 
region  altered  in  aspect.  A  forest  of  tall  deo- 
dars, sal,  and  toon  met  his  gaze.  A  full  hour 
he  kept  to  the  forest,  then  beyond  it  came  to  a 
small  open  space.  The  sound  of  murmuring 
waters  trickled  into  his  ear.  On  the  further 
side  of  the  clearing  there  was  a  stream.  His 
path  was  checked  on  that  side. 
173 


Turning  a  little  to  the  west  he  came  to  a  hill. 
Its  flank  lay  parallel  with  the  stream;  and 
gazing  beyond  the  stream  in  the  enshrouding 
gloom  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  rising  eminence 
looming  in  the  distance.  He  understood:  the 
stream  flowed  between  the  two.  If  his  search 
failed  upon  this  hillside,  he  must  cross  the  stream 
and  try  his  fate  upon  the  eminence. 

But  approaching  the  hill,  he  saw  a  dark 
cavern  at  its  base.  The  gloom  was  now  impene- 
trable, his  torches  flickering  low.  He  must 
wait  for  the  morn  to  resume  his  task. 

He  ate  of  the  cliappaties  (unleavened  bread) 
that  Harnam  Das  had  given  him  and  which  he 
had  brought  in  his  girdle,  and  drank  from  the 
stream.  Then  entering  the  cavern,  he  searched 
for  a  bed.  To  his  surprise  the  cavern  seemed 
long  and  endless.  He  had  hoped  to  lie  beside 
the  inner  wall ;  but  though  he  had  come  twenty 
paces  from  the  mouth,  there  was  still  an  endless 
void  before  him. 

Glancing  around,  he  saw  a  small  recess  on  the 
left  formed  by  a  large  projecting  boulder. 
174 


©If*    IBUrfcirt    0f    Ify*    (gnfcfl 

Behind  this  he  gathered  together  an  armful  of 
leaves  from  the  clearing  outside,  and  lay  down 
to  rest.  The  torches  he  placed  beside  the 
boulder.  They  flickered  awhile,  spluttered,  then 
died  out  in  ashes.  He  was  now  in  inky  dark- 
ness. .  .  . 

How  long  he  slept  he  knew  not.  Returning 
slowly  to  consciousness,  it  was  his  ear  that  first 
resumed  its  function.  A  vague  confused  sound 
seemed  to  trickle  into  it ;  but  between  sleep  and 
consciousness  as  he  was,  he  could  scarce  tell 
whether  it  was  a  real  material  sound  or  merely 
the  ending  of  a  dream.  Then  his  nostrils  came 
to  his  aid :  a  strong  smell  of  something  burning. 
A  while  after,  his  half-closed  eyelids :  a  sudden 
flash  of  light  before  them.  In  vague  apprehen- 
sion he  sat  up — then  suddenly  crouched  low 
behind  the  boulder — holding  his  very  breath. 

Before  him  were  six  stealthy  forms ! 

Each  man  clutched  a  long  lance  with  his  right 
hand,  a  spluttering  torch  high  above  his  head 
with   the   left.      They   were   peering   into    the 
impenetrable  darkness  of  the  cavern  beyond. 
175 


SI;?    Vrrhirt    nf    ilje    <g0&0 

"  He  has  come  this  way !  "  It  was  a  low 
whisper  from  the  leader ;  a  man  with  fierce  over- 
hanging eyebrows,  his  turban  woven  with  his 
long  hair  and  worn  low  over  the  forehead.  "  We 
shall  catch  him  surely." 

"  Ay ;  the  remains  of  his  supper  lie  outside," 
answered  the  second,  wearing  his  turban  like- 
wise as  his  leader.  "  He  must  be  within." 

A  sudden  sinking  came  over  Narayan  Lai's 
heart.  It  was  lie  whom  they  sought!  Why, 
he  did  not  pause  to  ask.  A  glance  at  the  six 
men  on  the  other  side  of  the  boulder  was  enough. 
Their  character  was  revealed  in  their  turbans 
of  mingled  hair  and  cloth.  They  were  Thugs 
upon  the  war-path !  Merciless  fiends  who  would 
steep  their  hands  in  his  blood  for  the  lust  of 
gold,  or  for  the  mere  pleasure  of  it. 

He  lay  but  six  feet  away.  A  sudden  curios- 
ity on  the  part  of  a  single  foe,  a  slight  diverg- 
ence of  the  file  of  Thugs  to  the  left,  and  he  was 
lost.  But  intent  upon  their  search,  and  think- 
ing him  to  be  still  ahead,  they  passed  the  boulder 
one  by  one,  following  in  their  leader's  wake. 

176 


®lj?    Berfctri    0f    tlje    (Sofia 

Into  the  black  darkness  beyond.  Their  bodies 
passed  from  view;  only  six  flaming  torches  held 
aloft  could  Narayan  Lai  see  in  the  depth  of  the 
cavern.  Then  even  they  passed  out  of  sight. 

Narayan  Lai's  first  impulse  was  to  emerge 
quickly  and  escape  by  the  entrance.  He  came 
out  from  behind  the  boulder,  stepped  to  the  mid- 
dle of  the  cavern — then  suddenly  fell  flat  upon 
his  face. 

At  the  entrance  he  saw  two  more  torches : 
two  more  Thugs  on  guard!  His  retreat  was 
cut  off!  He  was  trapped! 

Slowly,  imperceptibly,  he  crawled  back  to  his 
hiding-place  behind  the  boulder.  There  he  must 
lie.  His  fate  hung  upon  the  caprice  of  the 
gods. 

A  while  after  he  caught  the  flash  of  torches 
again  in  the  depth  of  the  cavern.  The  six 
Thugs  were  returning !  Then  a  horrible  appre- 
hension smote  him.  Now  looking  towards  him, 
they  were  sure  to  espy  him  as  they  approached 
the  boulder! 

He  glanced  around:  the  boulder  was  scarce 
177 


SI;*    Mrr&Ut    of    t\\t    (6nb0 

large  enough  to  hide  his  whole  body  from  view 
when  seen  from  the  inner  side  of  the  cavern. 
He  might  curl  his  head  and  half  his  body  behind 
the  boulder  in  a  semicircle,  but  his  feet  would 
betray  him — even  though  he  were  to  place  them 
flat  on  their  side  along  the  ground.  The  glis- 
tening soles  would  catch  the  glare  of  the  return- 
ing torches,  and  reveal  him  to  the  foe. 

In  frantic  haste  he  tortured  his  brain  for 
some  plan.  .  .  .  Slowly  it  germinated  in  his 
mind,  all  too  slow  for  such  urgent  need.  And 
at  best  it  was  but  a  slender  chance.  He  must 
try  it,  or  be  lost. 

He  scooped  up  the  bed  of  dry  leaves  upon 
which  he  was  lying,  and  placed  them  loose  upon 
his  feet  and  legs  up  to  the  knees.  Loose  and  in 
a  natural  manner,  as  if  they  had  been  driven  in 
by  wind  or  tide.  Then  holding  his  breath,  and 
praying  the  gods  to  send  blindness  to  his  foe- 
men's  eyes  and  deafness  to  their  ears,  he  lay 
curled  round  the  boulder. 

The  six  Thugs  came  past  him,  cursing  softly, 
asking  for  his  blood.  For  one  brief  moment 
178 


©fje    TJertiirt    nf    life    <B  n  &  s 

Narayan  Lai  thought,  with  rising  hope  in  his 
heart,  that  they  would  depart  altogether.  But 
they  only  went  to  the  entrance  to  recall  their 
outposts  there.  The  eight  Thugs  came  back  to 
the  interior  and  sat  down  to  rest.  An  arm's 
length  from  the  boulder! 

"  Perchance  he  has  escaped  into  the  innermost 
cavern." 

"  Then  we  have  him  safe " 

"  As  if  he  were  in  hiding  behind  this  very 
rock !  "  The  speaker  struck  the  left-hand  side 
of  the  boulder  with  his  lance.  Lying  with  his 
head  curled  inwards,  the  spear-point  came  to 
rest  but  a  span  from  Narayan  Lai's  face.  "  I 
shall  carry  back  his  head  to  the  Master  upon 
my  lance !  " 

Changing  his  aim  in  wanton  mood,  the  speaker 
stabbed  at  the  right-hand  side  of  the  boulder. 
The  sharp  steel  glanced  off  the  rock  and  crashed 
into  the  pile  of  leaves.  There  was  a  sharp 
twitching  of  Narayan's  Lai's  lips.  He  clenched 
down  his  teeth  to  smother  the  cry  of  pain — but 
dared  not  move  his  feet.  He  left  them  to  the 
179 


mercy  of  the  playful  lance.  The  thin  stream  of 
blood  oozed  out  of  the  wounded  ankle  and 
bedewed  the  leaves.  The  lance  came  again,  and 
in  sportive  mood  transfixed  the  leaves. 

The  Thug  withdrew  the  weapon,  and  held  up 
the  bunch  of  leaves  at  its  point  as  a  trophy. 

"  See,  the  leaves  are  red.     It  is  blood ! " 

"  Thou  hast  killed  a  sleeping  rat ! ' 

"  Go  behind  the  boulder,  and  search  for  the 
body." 

"  Ay,  I  shall,"  replied  the  Thug,  rising  up. 

"  And  carry  it  back  to  the  Master  upon  thy 
lance ! "  sneered  the  leader,  stopping  the  sport. 
"We  must  arise  at  earliest  dawn;  now  let  us 
rest." 

Narayan  Lai  heard  them  dispose  themselves 
to  sleep,  but  they  were  long  in  the  deed.  An 
intense  longing  came  over  him  to  shift  his 
wounded  foot,  but  he  dared  not  yet  awhile. 
Perchance  the  agony  was  too  great ;  perchance 
some  unbidden  sound  escaped  his  pursed  lips. 
Witness,  O  Fate,  that  when  we  would  be  silent 
as  death,  would  scarce  dare  to  breathe  for  dear 
180 


SUf?    IBUrMrf    nf    tiye    (gnba 

life,  that  very  instant  all  nature  is  at  war 
within  us  to  make  us  breathe  hard,  to  cough,  to 
sneeze — to  rend  our  very  soul  in  noise  and 
clamour.  Perchance  there  was  some  slight 
movement  in  Narayan's  Lai's  limbs.  He  knew 
not.  But  he  saw  a  dark  shadow  looming  over 
the  boulder.  It  was  well  for  him  in  that  hour 
that  all  the  torches  were  then  out.  The  Thug 
stabbed  with  his  lance  into  the  darkness  beyond 
the  boulder,  and  meeting  the  solid  wall  opposite, 
was  satisfied.  Once  he  brought  down  the  point 
— and  just  grazed  Narayan's  left  arm;  but 
for  the  roundness  of  the  boulder  his  heart  had 
been  transfixed.  Then,  assured  that  it  was  but 
a  squeaking  rat,  the  Thug  retired  to  rest. 

Gradually  the  sounds  died  out.  Long  the 
youth  waited,  too  long  it  seemed  in  the  pain. 
Then  at  last  there  came  to  his  ear  the  welcome 
sound  of  the  regular  and  long-drawn  breathing 
of  tired  men  locked  in  slumber. 

Slowly,  almost  imperceptibly,  he  drew  up  his 
legs,  and  sat  up.  Upon  hands  and  knees  he 
crept,  along  the  inner  wall — towards  the  inte- 
181 


rior  of  the  cavern;  for  there  was  no  exit  past 
the  Thugs.  With  a  slight  thud  he  knocked  his 
knee  against  a  projection,  and  fell  flat  upon 
his  face.  A  light  sleeper  stirred,  woke  up, 
raised  his  head,  and  peered  into  the  darkness. 
Feeling  with  his  hand,  the  Thug  picked  up  an 
extinct  torch  and  flung  it  over  his  head. 

"  Curse  those  skulking  rats ! "  he  muttered, 
and  lay  down  to  rest. 

The  torch  struck  the  wall  a  yard  above  Nara- 
yan's  head,  recoiled,  and  fell  before  him. 
Thinking  a  moment,  he  picked  up  the  torch. 
But  full  forty  beats  of  his  heart  he  counted  and 
yet  forty  more,  ere  he  dared  to  move.  Then 
crouching  along  the  wall,  he  worked  his  way 
inwards  into  the  cavern. 

Coming  at  last  beyond  earshot  of  his  foes, 
he  sat  on  the  ground,  tore  off  the  end  of  his  tur- 
ban, and  tied  up  his  wounded  ankle;  for  that 
was  his  most  urgent  need.  Limping  in  pain,  he 
went  further  and  further  inwards,  groping 
along  the  wall  to  guide  his  path.  Where  the 
cavern  led  he  could  not  tell,  nor  cared.  His 
182 


one  thought  now  was  to  flee  from  his  relentless 
foes.  Sufficient  for  the  moment  was  the  existing 
peril.  In  that  moment  of  pain,  had  his  judg- 
ment been  clearer,  he  would  at  least  have  antici- 
pated the  possibility  of  other  perils — that  per- 
chance in  fleeing  from  one,  he  was  falling  into 
another.  .  .  . 

Suddenly  he  saw  a  dim  hazy  light  ahead.  He 
paused  in  thought.  What  could  it  be?  Cau- 
tiously he  made  his  way.  The  light  grew 
slightly  clearer,  though  yet  it  was  but  a  dif- 
fused glare.  Thirty  paces,  twenty,  and  he 
turned  a  sudden  corner.  His  heart  stood  still. 
A  great  bitterness  rose  up  within  him ;  he  cursed 
Fate. 

Before  him  was  the  other  end  of  the  cavern; 
the  cavern  was  but  a  long  tunnel  beneath  the 
hill  he  had  seen  that  evening  beside  the  stream. 
But  ten  paces  from  the  opening  he  saw  a  small 
fire  of  dried  leaves  and  twigs,  beside  it  three  men 
stretched  upon  the  ground:  Thugs.  He  was 
between  two  fires ! 

His  first  thought  was  to  retrace  his  steps. 
183 


eij?    Her&trt    nf    lire    (S  0  ft  e 

Then  the  utter  hopelessness  of  his  position  struck 
him  full,  sending  a  chill  into  his  heart.  No,  if 
he  must  needs  take  the  plunge,  let  it  be  forward ! 
Better  to  die  advancing  than  retreating. 

Thinking  awhile  and  resolved  to  die,  he 
crawled  up  to  the  sleeping  forms  on  hands  and 
knees.  Stretching  forth  his  right  hand,  he 
held  the  torch  he  carried  to  the  side  of  the  fire. 
He  only  prayed  in  his  inmost  soul  that  it  would 
catch  alight  before  his  merciless  foes  awoke. 
True,  he  had  flint  and  tinder  at  his  girdle ;  but 
to  light  the  torch  by  them  would  have  awakened 
the  Thugs.  It  was  well  for  him  that  the  torch 
had  already  been  lit  once,  and  was  dry.  It  did 
not  splutter.  But  too  slow  was  the  fire  at  its 
work;  so  it  seemed  to  his  aching  heart,  though 
it  beat  but  seven  times  meanwhile. 

That  instant  he  rose  to  his  feet,  took  a  long 
deep  breath,  and  gathered  his  limbs  for  the  leap. 
The  next  he  hurled  himself  over  the  fire,  over  the 
prostrate  forms — flinging  the  torch  backwards 
over  his  head  into  the  interior  of  the  cavern. 
In  a  single  second  after  reaching  earth  he 
184 


®(fe    Her&iri    af    ilf?    (Sa&a 

covered  the  ten  paces  to  the  mouth.  Then 
wheeling  sharp  round,  he  fled  helter-skelter  up 
the  hillside. 

Behind  him  the  awakened  Thugs  leapt  to  their 
feet.  Seeing  the  flaming  torch  within  the  tun- 
nel, they  sprang  to  it — thinking  they  should 
find  their  quarry  fallen  beside  it.  Then  realis- 
ing the  deceit,  they  rushed  out  of  the  cavern  in 
hot  pursuit. 

But  in  the  short  respite  their  prey  was  already 
out  of  sight.  They  knew  not  which  way  he  had 
fled.  In  the  darkness  they  could  see  nothing. 
Then  with  devilish  cunning  they  lay  low  upon 
the  ground,  with  ear  to  earth.  The  faint  sound 
of  soft  footfall  upon  moss  and  creeper !  Their 
quarry  had  fled  up  the  hill!  (Had  the  sound 
been  that  of  breaking  twigs  and  brambles,  they 
had  known  that  the  fugitive  had  gone  towards 
the  jungle  below.) 

Hot-footed  they   scrambled  up  the  hill.      A 

dense  screen  of  creepers  rose  up  before  them. 

The  foremost  pursuer  had  his  hand  upon  the 

screen   to   part   it — when   his   comrade  behind 

185 


pulled  him  back.  The  next  instant  all  three 
were  upon  their  faces,  with  ear  to  earth.  One 
crawled  to  the  right  along  the  screen,  one  to 
the  left ;  the  third  remained  listening.  In  ten 
seconds  the  first  stopped,  rose  up,  and  ran  back 
swiftly  to  his  starting  point;  for  the  sound 
along  the  ground  to  the  right  had  grown  fainter 
and  fainter.  But  the  man  on  the  left  hastened 
on,  and  did  not  return.  Then  his  two  com- 
rades behind  understood  that  the  sound  had 
increased  that  way!  They  plunged  forward 
to  the  left  and  overtook  the  other  Thug. 

All  three  ran  along  the  screen  of  creepers,  till 
suddenly  behind  a  projecting  rock  they  came  to 
a  stop.  Yes,  there  was  the  gap  in  the  screen! 
Their  quarry  had  made  it  in  his  hasty  flight! 
They  plunged  into  the  gap,  now  sure  of  their 
prey. 

And  Narayan  Lai?  A  hundred  cubits  he  had 
put  between  himself  and  his  pursuers,  before 
they  were  at  the  gap ;  but  a  hundred  cubits  was 
all  too  little  for  such  need.  Already  his  swollen 
ankle  caused  him  intense  agony ;  a  little  more, 
186 


and  he  should  fall  moaning  to  the  ground  in  his 
foemen's  path.  Yet  he  struggled  on  with 
clenched  teeth,  lest  an  inadvertent  cry  of  pain 
should  betray  him.  It  was  well  for  him  that  the 
lowering  clouds  above  hid  the  moon;  he  blessed 
the  darkness,  thankful  for  even  such  small 
mercy.  Then  suddenly  a  break  in  the  fleeing 
clouds  revealed  him  for  an  instant  to  the  Thugs. 
He  heard  the  cry  of  cruel  exultation  behind — 
and  went  headlong  in  his  last  despairing  effort. 
Half  wheeling  to  the  right  in  the  returning 
darkness,  he  sought  the  shelter  of  a  low  thicket 
he  had  noticed  in  the  flash  of  moonlight.  Behind 
it  he  cast  himself  flat  upon  the  earth,  gasping 
for  breath.  Whether  the  Thugs  had  also  noticed 
the  thicket,  he  knew  not.  From  their  position 
lower  down  the  hill,  and  having  eyes  for  him 
alone,  perchance  it  had  escaped  their  ken  in  the 
short  flash  of  moonlight;  and  in  the  returning 
darkness  perchance  they  would  miss  it  full  fifty 
cubits  on  the  right,  and  go  straight  up  the  hill 
instead.  He  prayed  they  would.  That  was  his 
sole  chance. 

187 


©If*    lerfctrt    nf    tlf*    (Sn&H 

Then  in  response  to  his  prayer  the  thunder- 
laden  clouds  parted  with  a  sudden  clap.  A 
torrent  of  rain  came  down.  A  moment  after 
the  wind  swept  down  upon  the  hill  with  a  mighty 
roar.  Gathering  force  each  moment  from  the 
very  resistance  it  encountered,  it  hurled  itself 
down  at  last  upon  the  hill-top  in  fierce  anger, 
and,  meeting  the  tall  trees  upon  the  summit, 
mowed  them  down  as  with  a  scythe.  The  next 
instant  it  caught  up  the  fallen  giants  and  flung 
them  off  the  summit  towards  the  side  of  the 
stream  as  if  they  were  but  wisps  of  straw.  For 
it  was  a  tropical  cyclone  before  which  all  nature 
must  bow  and  lie  impotent.  The  lowly  bushes, 
the  suppliant  reed,  the  yielding  grass,  it  alone 
spared;  the  stubborn  and  the  mighty  it  swept 
away  from  the  hillside. 

And  from  his  inmost  heart  Narayan  Lai  blest 
the  storm.  He  took  off  the  bandage  from  his 
ankle  and  let  the  cool  rain  play  upon  it.  He  felt 
with  his  fingers  tenderly,  and  discovered  to  his 
intense  relief  that  the  wound  was  but  in  the 
flesh;  the  muscle  and  tendon  had  been  spared.  A 
188 


©lie    Vtrfttrt    nf    tlj?    <S  0  b  a 

small  pool  of  water  formed  before  him ;  into  it 
he  placed  his  foot,  and  lying  back,  reposed 
awhile  on  the  ground,  thinking. 

Judging  by  the  position  of  the  moon  in  the 
brief  flash,  it  was  yet  two  hours  from  the  break 
of  dawn.  Within  that  he  must  escape  from 
the  hill;  for  in  the  coming  light  he  would  be 
lost. 

But  how?  If  he  went  towards  the  summit,  he 
would  be  observed  by  the  three  Thugs  there.  If 
he  descended  the  hill,  his  only  exit  that  way  was 
by  the  cavern :  and  there  he  might  run  straight 
into  the  arms  of  the  foes  he  had  left  behind 
earlier  in  the  night. 

Suddenly  he  remembered  the  stream  he  had 
noticed  that  evening.  Did  it  flow  past  this  side 
of  the  hill?  .  .  .  He  too  put  his  ear  to  the 
ground,  and  waited.  .  .  . 

A  full  hour  he  waited.  The  storm  abated. 
Gradually  the  raging  wind  died  out.  Then 
another  sound  arose  in  his  ear :  yes,  the  rushing 
of  swollen  waters ! 

Quickly  he  bandaged  up  his  ankle,  soaking 
189 


$If*    Uerbfrl    nf    flf*    (Snfca 

the  cloth  in  the  pool.  Thinking  awhile,  calcu- 
lating the  direction,  he  curved  round  slightly 
to  the  left,  and  crawled  upon  his  hands  and 
knees  over  the  soft  moss. 

How  long,  he  could  not  tell ;  it  seemed  a  long 
century  to  him.  In  his  deep  anxiety  to  reach  the 
goal,  he  failed  to  notice  for  a  moment  that  the 
moss  and  creepers  had  grown  scarcer;  that  he 
was  now  upon  harder  ground.  Suddenly  he 
knocked  his  knee  against  a  rock,  stifling  a  cry 
of  pain.  But  that  rock  had  saved  him  from  a 
peril  he  had  scarce  realised  in  the  darkness. 
Now  stretching  out  his  right  hand  overhead,  he 
began  to  feel  cautiously  ere  he  proceeded. 
Thrice  his  own  length,  and  his  hand  touched  the 
sharp  edge  of  the  rock,  sloping  downwards. 

Yes,  that  was  the  end  of  the  cliff;  one  step 
further,  and  he  would  have  fallen  head  foremost 
into  the  stream  below. 

But  how  far  was  the  stream?    He  picked  up 

a  stone  with  the  left  hand,  laid  the  thumb  of  his 

right  hand  upon  the  left  wrist,  lightly  cast  the 

stone  over  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  and  from  that 

190 


Sly*    Herbtrt    nf    ily*    (gnfca 

instant  begun  to  count  his  pulse.  One,  two, 
three — then  the  splash.  The  stream  was  a  full 
hundred  cubits  below! 

Worse  than  that.  The  left  hand  had  only 
jerked  the  stone  forward  lightly.  It  could  not 
have  gone  more  than  five  cubits  horizontally ; 
and  yet  it  had  not  touched  the  hillside  in  its  fall. 
He  understood:  the  cliff  was  a  perpendicular 
wall  at  that  point. 

Keeping  along  the  edge,  he  began  to  work  his 
way  downwards  along  the  slope  of  the  hill.  A 
while  after  he  stood  up,  and  flung  a  stone  over 
his  head  with  all  his  strength;  and  heard  the 
answering  splash.  He  jerked  another  stone 
lightly,  as  he  had  done  awhile  ago :  and  heard  a 
soft  thud,  another,  and  then  the  splash.  The 
cliff  had  begun  to  slope  out  towards  the  stream. 

Thus  he  made  his  way  down  the  hillside,  till 
at  last  dropping  a  stone  from  the  edge  he  heard 
the  thud  within  a  second.  There  was  a  ledge 
below  him,  within  ten  cubits ! 

Proceeding  a  little  further  down  to  make 
quite  sure,  he  dropped  lightly  upon  the  ledge. 

191 


®lj*    lerfciri    of    ilf*    <S0i0 

From  there  to  gain  the  stream  by  successive 
stages  was  but  the  work  of  time. 

With  newborn  hope  in  his  heart  he  felt  the 
water  at  his  feet.  He  was  a  good  swimmer;  if 
he  could  but  see  his  way  to  avoid  sunken  rocks 
he  would  surely  cross  the  stream  in  safety.  The 
swift-coming  dawn  broke  upon  him  without 
notice.  A  moment  more,  and  he  would  be  in 
the  stream.  .  .  . 

That  instant  he  heard  a  reverberating  sound 
overhead;  it  was  a  huge  boulder  thundering 
down  the  hillside.  It  came  from  ledge  to  ledge, 
then  plunged  into  the  water  five  cubits  ahead, 
just  where  he  would  have  been  now.  In  vague 
apprehension  he  gazed  up. 

In  the  dim  light  he  saw  three  grinning  faces 
peering  at  him  over  the  edge  of  the  cliff. 

His  first  impulse  was  to  plunge  into  the 
stream  before  the  next  boulder  came.  But  a 
second's  thought  made  him  recoil  into  the  shelter 
of  the  bank.  What  avail  now  to  cross  the  stream 
in  sight  of  his  foes?  Surely,  they  too  could 
192 


cross?  The  utmost  effort  of  human  fortitude, 
of  physical  pain  and  endurance,  had  failed  to 
save  him  from  these  relentless  foes.  He  must 
try  stratagem.  .  .  . 

Meanwhile  the  Thugs  on  the  hill-top  parted. 
Two  ran  down  the  slope  towards  their  quarry; 
the  third  hastened  the  opposite  way  to  warn  his 
comrades  at  the  mouth  of  the  cavern  so  that  they 
might  watch  the  stream  there  in  case  Narayan 
Lai  attempted  to  run  along  the  bank  and  take 
to  the  stream  from  that  point. 

Long  they  waited  there  watching  the  stream ; 
the  eight  Thugs  and  their  comrade  who  had 
brought  the  warning.  The  broad  daylight 
was  now  upon  the  stream,  but  they  saw  noth- 
ing. 

"  Perhaps  he  has  run  up  the  hillside  again, 
and  is  now  hiding  at  the  summit." 

"  Then  surely  we  shall  catch  him,"  answered 
the  Thug  who  had  joined  them.  "  The  storm 
has  swept  it  bare  of  trees,  and  there  is  no  hid- 
ing-place." 

"  Ay,  brother ;  thou  dost  speak  truly,"  the 
193 


SI;?    Urrittri    nf    tlte    (6  n  b  0 

leader  of  the  gang  replied,  waving  his  hand  to 
the  stream. 

For  upon  the  stream  was  a  mighty  sal-tree 
floating  down,  roots  foremost.  Half  its  leafy 
boughs  were  submerged,  the  other  half  forming 
a  canopy  at  the  head.  The  tree  passed  within 
a  lance-throw  of  the  Thugs ;  then  the  swift 
current  caught  it  in  a  bend  in  the  stream,  twirled 
it  round  as  if  it  were  but  a  cockle-shell,  and  cast 
it  upon  the  bank  opposite  at  a  point  that  seemed 
to  be  at  the  foot  of  the  eminence. 

And  all  the  morning  the  Thugs  waited  for 
their  prey,  and  found  him  not.  Then,  dividing 
their  forces,  they  left  three  men  at  the  stream 
beside  the  cavern,  and  with  the  rest  scoured  the 
hillside.  All  day  they  searched  for  their  quarry ; 
still  in  vain. 

And  all  day  the  sal-tree  lay  upon  the  oppo- 
site bank ;  in  its  leafy  canopy  a  silent  form  lay 
hid  all  day.  Thrice  the  pangs  of  hunger  had 
nearly  driven  him  out  to  forage  for  food;  but 
still  he  stayed  within  the  shelter,  waiting  for 
nightfall.  In  crossing  the  stream  on  the  tree 
104 


in  the  very  sight  of  his  foe,  he  had  run  enough 
risk  for  the  day.  He  now  prayed  for  darkness 
to  continue  his  task. 

Verily,  all  this  was  but  a  prelude.  The  full 
tragedy  yet  remained.  He  had  yet  to  find  the 
precious  manik,  or  perish! 


195 


THE     TEMPLE     OF     THE     MANIK 

T  nightfall  Narayan  Lai  emerged 
from  his  hiding-place  and  looked 
around.  Making  his  way  along  the 
bank,  he  saw  a  low  clump  of  trees, 
at  its  edge  a  plantain-tree;  in  that  region  it 
grew  wild  like  mushrooms.  He  ate  of  its  lus- 
cious fruit  in  ravenous  hunger,  and  quenched  his 
thirst  from  the  stream. 

Then  turning  to  the  inland,  he  saw  before 
him  a  seeming  plateau,  with  a  gentle  slope 
upwards.  This  he  ascended ;  reaching  the  top 
quickly,  he  saw  a  level  stretch  of  earth  dotted 
with  thicket  along  its  length.  In  the  dim  star- 
light he  made  his  way  for  a  full  hour.  Passing 
by  a  pine-tree,  he  picked  up  a  short  dry  branch 
fallen  to  the  ground.  Plucking  off  the  withered 
leaves,  and  flattening  the  top  against  a  stone 
to  expose  the  resinous  fibres,  he  made  a  torch 
196 


ahr    U*r&irt    of    t  It  0    (6  n  ft  s 

of  it.  But  not  till  he  was  past  the  thickets,  and 
hidden  by  them  from  all  possible  observation 
from  his  foes  on  the  hill-top  on  the  other  side  of 
the  stream,  did  he  venture  to  bring  out  the  flint 
and  tinder  from  his  girdle  and  light  the  torch. 

Suddenly  the  plateau  sloped  down  to  a  ravine. 
Beyond  it  he  saw  again  the  gigantic  eminence 
he  had  noticed  the  day  before.  Seen  across  the 
stream,  it  had  appeared  so  near ;  now  he  realised 
that  it  was  a  long  league  further.  Descending 
the  slope,  he  threaded  his  way  again  on  to  the 
other  side,  then  came  to  an  abrupt  pause,  know- 
ing not  which  way  to  turn.  Behind  him  was 
the  deep  ravine  he  had  just  quitted,  before  him 
the  perpendicular  rock.  Then  examining  this 
closer,  he  found  hidden  beneath  a  growth  of 
moss  and  creepers  the  mouth  of  a  dark  grotto. 
It  seemed  a  mere  crack  on  the  face  of  the  rock. 

Bending  low  to  his  knees  and  holding  aloft 
the  torch,  he  stepped  forward  to  the  grotto. 
The  next  instant  he  stood  rooted  to  the  spot.  A 
cry,  a  wail,  rang  in  his  ear;  an  infant's  wail. 
Here!  there!  No,  behind — ahead! 
197 


Sttj?    Iterfciri    af    t^t    (gnba 

He  turned  to  the  right — yes,  from  there! 

He  turned  to  the  left — no,  from  there! 

It  seemed  to  come  from  everywhere,  a  long 
piteous  cry.  Yet  it  was  the  same  voice. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  laugh,  a  mocking  laugh. 
It  came  from  nowhere. 

Remember  that  he  was  in  a  desolate  region, 
with  the  tropical  darkness  around  him.  There 
was  no  sign  of  a  created  being,  living  or  dead. 
And  yet  that  wail,  that  laugh,  rang  in  his 
ear. 

His  heart  turned  cold  with  fear;  his  blood 
froze  in  his  veins. 

Yes !  inside  the  grotto,  framed  in  the  dark- 
ness was  a  Face!  Half  beast,  half  man.  Low 
hanging  jaws;  reddish  whiskers;  dirty  grey 
hair,  bushy  over  the  projecting  forehead;  blink- 
ing bloodshot  eyes. 

Over  the  head  protruded  long  ears  or  horns ; 
which  he  could  not  tell.  There  seemed  to  be  a 
hump  behind  in  the  darkness,  like  a  hunchback's. 
He  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  legs,  crooked  like  a 
satyr's.  The  jaws  opened,  and  there  issued 
198 


Sriye    Uerfttri    nf    ilj?    (Sn&a 

forth  the  same  mocking  laugh.  The  being  ad- 
vanced, hobbling  over  the  crooked  legs. 

It  was  the  Grey  Hyena. 

He  remembered  the  tales  of  his  childhood, 
mothers'  tales  to  frighten  children.  The  cun- 
ning beast  that  first  wailed  like  a  child  to  al- 
lure its  unwary  victim,  then  tore  it  to  pieces. 
The  ingenuity  of  a  fiend,  perchance  a  human 
fiend! 

He  remembered  the  teachings  of  his  faith; 
the  souls  of  the  accursed  haunting  the  bodies  of 
beasts  in  their  re-incarnations ;  of  their  return- 
ing to  earth  to  expiate  the  sins  of  their  past 
lives. 

He  stood  still,  with  his  hand  to  his  bosom 
where  lay  the  small  dagger  he  had  received  in 
his  prison — too  small,  too  material,  for  such  a 
foe.  But  the  hyena  blinked,  and  in  that  there 
was  a  leer — a  scornful  leer. 

"Hook-ka  huah!  .  .  .  huah!  huah!  huah!" 
laughed  the  hyena. 

It  ambled  out  of  the  grotto,  blinked  and 
leered  again,  then  with  the  same  laugh  disap- 
199 


2IIf*    Uerfcirt    nf    tty*    <go&0 

peared  down  the  ravine.  Five  minutes  later  he 
heard  the  wailing  of  .a  child  in  the  stillness  of 
the  night. 

With  a  panting  heart  he  entered  the  grotto. 
It  widened  out  beyond.  Stooping  at  every  step, 
holding  aloft  his  torch,  he  came  to  a  long  dark 
gallery  that  seemed  to  lead  into  the  bowels  of 
the  earth. 

A  cold,  damp,  musty  smell  arose  in  the  air  as 
he  entered  the  tunnel.  Lower  and  lower  into 
the  earth  he  went,  but  the  dark  roof  lifted 
higher  and  higher,  till  the  lurid  glare  failed  to 
reach  the  gloom  above.  The  parallel  walls  on 
either  side  seemed  to  recede  from  view.  It  was 
a  black  space  of  unknown  dimensions  around, 
above,  beyond.  Drip!  drip!  drip!  fell  from 
overhead  the  last  surviving  raindrops  caught 
in  the  earth  above. 

Creepy,  slimy,  sluggish  things  crawled  be- 
tween his  naked  toes  with  chilling  sloth.  Sud- 
denly he  stumbled.  It  was  a  heap  of  bones — 
perhaps  bestial,  perhaps  not.  With  a  heavy 
step  he  lurched  up — and  crashed  through  a 
200 


©tf*    Vt-r&Ut    nf    itf*    <£0&a 

thick  skull,  awakening  a  thousand  hideous 
echoes. 

As  if  aroused  from  a  prolonged  slumber,  pale 
green  eyes  seemed  to  peer  at  him  from  every 
nook  and  corner.  He  felt  a  deep  breathing  in 
the  place,  other  than  his  own.  The  place  seemed 
all  alive  with  beings  that  he  could  not  see 
nor  hear;  only  feel.  With  drunken  steps 
he  walked  on  and  on  into  the  enshrouding 
gloom. 

Suddenly  he  heard  a  low  rumbling  sound,  like 
distant  thunder.  It  grew  louder  and  louder, 
reverberating  through  the  long  tunnel,  then 
ending  in  a  dull  thud. 

"  A  boulder  fallen  outside ;  it  seemed  a  chorus 
of  unhuman  laughter ! "  And  he  smiled  a  grim 
sickly  smile. 

An  instantaneous  gleam  of  light,  reflected 
from  the  torch  by  some  moving  object,  shot 
ahead,  and  then  quickly  vanished.  A  nestling, 
whirring  sound  above,  and  a  dark  cold  mass 
rushed  through  the  air  and  fell  flat  on  his  face. 
With  a  cry  of  horror  he  dropped  the  torch  and 


tore  off  the  thing  with  his  fingers.     It  was  a 
huge  bat,  with  large  flapping  wings. 

A  cold  shudder  ran  through  his  frame. 
Snatching  up  the  brand  he  hastened  on.  The 
sides  of  the  cavern  became  visible  again.  He 
seemed  to  be  entering  a  wide  corridor  hewn  out 
of  the  solid  rock.  The  ruddy  glare  revealed  the 
faint  outlines  of  two  rows  of  gigantic  pillars 
flickering  drunkenly  in  the  uncertain  gloom. 

Pillars  and  pillars  and  pillars.  There  seemed 
to  be  no  end  to  them.  At  last  they  widened  out 
into  the  central  chamber.  Above,  the  gloom 
was  still  impenetrable,  but  far  ahead  there  ap- 
peared the  head  of  the  chamber  in  a  dark  hazy 
mist. 

He  drew  nearer.  Against  the  solid  wall,  and 
jutting  out  in  bold  relief,  he  made  out  a  huge 
outline  spread  fan-shaped  from  a  central  body. 

It  was  a  colossal  idol. 

It  sat  upon  a  raised  musnud  chiselled  in  black 
marble,  its  feet  coiled  beneath  the  body.  The 
arms  lay  upon  each  knee.  The  head  was  unseen 
in  the  gloom  above. 

202 


Slfe    UeriHrt    0?    ilj*    <g0fca 

Coming  nearer  he  raised  the  torch  aloft  till 
the  slanting  rays  fell  upon  the  face.  It  was  a 
grim,  stern  face — not  like  that  of  Brahma,  or 
Vishnu,  or  Siva. 

The  monstrous  ears  spread  out  like  fans  on 
each  side  of  the  head;  the  broad,  square  jaws 
clenched  tight  in  savage  fury;  the  thick,  flat 
nose  hung  heavy  over  the  mouth.  It  was  more 
fiend  than  man ;  less  man  than  beast.  He  shud- 
dered in  vague  terror  as  his  restless  eyes  fell 
upon  these  features  involuntarily.  For  it  was 
not  them  that  he  sought. 

From  right  in  the  centre  of  the  forehead  he 
saw  a  spark  of  light  emanating  with  intermit- 
tent glow  as  he  moved  his  torch.  With  quicken- 
ing breath  he  saw  that. 

It  was  the  eye  of  the  god — the  manik. 

It  scintillated  rays  of  fire  from  its  uncut 
corners  even  in  that  flickering  light.  Three 
human  eyes  placed  together  would  have  seemed 
small  beside  it.  Yet  it  shone  with  the  angry 
blaze  of  a  human  eye — a  living  eye. 

Hark!  what  was  that?  A  step — a  laugh — a 
203 


SUj*    Hrriirt    af    llje    (Sn&a 

low  chuckle?  Impossible  surely,  in  the  bosom 
of  Mother  Earth,  and  in  that  dread  hour  of 
night  when  even  idols  sleep! 

He  looked  around  with  fearful  eyes,  like  a 
criminal  caught  in  his  toils.  He  strained  his 
ears  to  catch  the  echo  of  some  advancing  foot- 
step, and  clutched  convulsively  the  dagger  in 
his  bosom. 

Drip!  drip!  drip!    Splash!    .     .     . 

Was  it  but  the  chuckling  of  the  water  falling 
from  the  earth  above  to  the  earth  beneath? 
Surely,  not  a  laugh? 

All  stillness  again,  save  the  beating  of  his 
heart.  In  intense  relief  he  passed  on,  cursing 
his  cowardice. 

But  scarcely  a  step  had  he  taken  when  he 
recoiled  in  sudden  terror.  He  saw  a  recumbent 
figure  upon  the  sanctuary;  another;  yet 
another.  All  lying  in  a  heap  in  strange  unnat- 
ural attitudes. 

Holding  his  breath,  he  peered  at  them,  the 
cold  sweat  standing  in  beads  upon  his  brow. 

Then  gradually  he  realised.  They  were  dead ! 
204 


Human  skeletons.  Mere  bags  of  dust  that 
would  crumble  at  the  lightest  touch. 

But  in  each  of  them  he  noticed  something  that 
he  could  not  understand.  From  the  head  to  the 
breast  each  skeleton  was  cloven  in  twain.  Some 
fearful  blow  must  have  done  that — perchance 
in  the  living  flesh. 

With  a  cold  shiver  he  passed  them  by,  and 
ascended  the  altar.  He  looked  up  to  the  gleam- 
ing stone  upon  the  idol's  brow.  Now  or 
never ! 

But  what  did  he  see  there  that  made  him  start 
in  sudden  horror,  his  knees  knocking  together 
in  convulsion,  his  bronzed  face  blanching  to  a 
leaden  hue? 

Right  above  his  head,  and  held  by  an  iron 
rod  from  the  roof,  was  an  enormous  axe.  Its 
huge  blade,  a  yard  across  from  horn  to  horn, 
lay  on  a  line  with  the  idol's  brow. 

As  one  awakening  from  a  dream,  the  knowl- 
edge of  its  purpose  began  to  dawn  upon  him. 
The  moment  the  despoiler  touched  the  eye  of  the 
god  some  secret  spring  would  be  released.  The 
205 


iron  rod  that  held  the  axe  would  swing  back 
upon  him.  The  axe  would  cleave  him  in  twain. 

Then  he  understood  also  the  fearful  import 
of  those  skeletons  strewing  the  floor  of  the 
sanctuary.  Unhappy  wretches  that  had  met  a 
terrible  death. 

With  a  bound  he  sprang  clear  of  the 
threatened  space,  stumbled  headlong  over  the 
sanctuary,  and  lay  crouching  in  the  corner 
opposite. 

And  now  the  diminished  torch  flickered  and 
sputtered  in  his  hand  till  he  cast  it  to  the  floor. 
There  the  red  spark  glowed  awhile,  then  died 
away  under  a  veil  of  ashes. 

It  was  an  impenetrable  gloom.  The  idol, 
whose  huge  outline  he  had  last  seen  by  the  dying 
embers,  was  now  beyond  his  ken.  He  sat  still, 
and  the  dull  hours  passed  slowly  by.  He  remem- 
bered his  guru's  warning  words,  and  waited  for 
Mother  Kali  to  reveal  her  bounty. 

He  knew  not  that  the  hand  of  Death  was  close 
upon  him. 

His  trials?  What  were  they  now?  Kings 
206 


Sllf*    JUrfctri    nf    tlf*    <gnim 

and  rulers — what  were  they?  It  was  Death 
that  came  to  seek  him  against  the  will  of 
kings. 

He  heard  a  strange  sound,  a  low  soft  whistle, 
some  distance  away  it  seemed  in  that  stillness. 
It  came  again,  nearer.  This  time  he  thought  it 
could  not  be  a  whistle;  rather  as  the  escape  of 
wind  from  an  iron  nozzle.  It  came  nearer  still, 
sharper,  harder.  It  died  out  a  moment,  then 
instantly  resumed,  but  now  in  an  intermittent 
flow. 

He  crouched  upon  his  hands  and  knees,  and 
peered  into  the  gloom.  He  thought  he  saw 
something;  felt  sure  he  saw.  It  might  have 
been  a  black  mass,  more  imagined  than  seen, 
dark  against  the  darker  background. 

Still  nearer.  It  seemed  to  rise  in  the  air — to 
rear  up — a  thick  column  three  cubits  high.  The 
column  approached,  a  long  heavy  body  trailing 
behind  it ;  that  he  guessed  from  the  soft  sweep- 
ing rustle  it  made.  Some  terrible  being  that 
man  was  impotent  to  face. 

He  lay  flat  on  the  ground,  scarce  daring  to 
207 


®l|?    Uerbtri    nf    tlf*    (gn&s 

breathe — then  suddenly  remembered  in  horror 
that  half  his  own  body  lay  straight  in  its  path. 
For  a  moment  he  was  stunned  by  the  thought. 
On  one  side  lay  the  sanctuary  rails;  he  could 
recede  no  further.  On  the  other  was  this  fear- 
ful monster.  His  end  was  inevitable. 

In  that  supreme  crisis  it  was  mere  instinct 
that  prompted  him  to  act,  the  love  of  man  for  his 
life.  He  turned  on  his  side,  curved  his  legs 
inwards  under  him,  an  inch  at  a  time  lest  the 
sound  should  betray  him.  He  prayed  for  time 
— just  the  bare  moments  to  curl  himself  by 
the  rails. 

Slowly  the  knees  came  up,  too  slow  for  such 
a  peril.  He  felt  a  breath  upon  his  face.  The 
strange  intermittent  sound  had  risen  to  a  steady 
flow.  The  cold,  clammy  wind  enshrouded  him 
like  a  blast  from  a  grave.  The  Thing  was  upon 
him — a  dark  mass  looming  over  him ! 

O  Bhugwan,  grant  one  single  moment — one 
single  span  to  recede  in  silence !  One  little  span 
for  a  human  life.  .  .  .  Too  late,  too  late ! 

In  frantic  haste  he  clashed  his  knees  to  his 
208 


GJIf*    flpr&iri    of    tiff    (Softs 

chin,  then  shivered  in  terror.  A  soft  clatter 
he  heard  by  his  side,  and  knew  that  he  was 
betrayed.  In  that  last  movement  the  dagger 
had  fallen  from  his  bosom. 

Swerving  swiftly  at  the  sound,  the  Thing 
came  down — upon  his  knees.  A  chilling  body 
rolled  over  them,  grinding  them  down  by  its 
sheer  weight.  He  marvelled  that  he  did  not 
shriek  out  in  horror.  Perhaps  he  did.  In  that 
agonising  moment  he  was  not  conscious  of  his 
deeds.  Perhaps  a  merciful  torpor  had  come 
upon  him  to  spare  this  pain. 

But  suddenly  the  Thing  had  stopped  in  its 
course.  He  felt  that  something  was  now  creep- 
ing under  him;  how,  he  was  too  deadened  with 
pain  to  know.  Slowly,  yet  forcibly,  his  legs 
were  pulled  out  from  beneath  him.  Something 
seemed  to  be  above  them,  under  them,  all  around 
them.  Something  seemed  to  be  crushing  them 
on  every  side. 

And  slowly  the  pressure  began  to  mount  up ; 
upwards  from  the  knees,  the  thighs,  the  waist. 
He  was  lifted  up  like  a  child  by  some  irresistible 
209 


©t?*    Eerfciri    nf    ttfe    (Safca 

force,  and  a  new  band  cast  around  him  higher 
and  higher. 

In  stooping  to  the  floor  at  the  first  sense  of 
danger,  his  arms  had  lain  doubled  up  against 
his  breast.  As  the  first  coil  touched  his  elbow, 
he  realised  with  a  shock  that  now  his  destruc- 
tion was  nearing  its  completion.  Even  as  a 
man  striking  out  in  a  nightmare,  he  awoke  from 
his  stupor. 

With  a  stifled  groan  he  threw  out  his  arms 
wildly — refusing  to  die  without  a  struggle.  A 
cold  curling  mass  met  his  hands.  He  hit  at  it 
blindly — thrust  it  from  him — clutched  it  in  a 
frenzied  grasp  with  both  hands. 

A  blast  of  fire  smote  his  face  that  instant, 
just  from  the  end  of  his  arms.  A  sound  as  that 
of  rushing  waters  issued  therefrom,  an  arm's 
length  away.  Then  he  realised  that  the  Thing 
that  held  him  in  its  grip — and  he  it — was  a 
gigantic  boa. 

Then  also  he  realised  as  he  lay  upon  his  side, 
that  soon  his  legs,  his  whole  body,  would  be 
paralysed  under  that  stupendous  pressure — then 
210 


©If*    Hrrbiri    of    iff*    (gafca 

crushed  into  soft  clay.  Knowing  this,  he 
clenched  his  fingers  upon  the  serpent's  throat 
with  the  grip  of  death — just  to  get  the  dearest 
price  for  his  precious  life. 

He  knew  he  must  die.  What  else  he  knew, 
mattered  little.  In  that  moment  of  agony  all 
knowledge  flashed  through  his  mind  in  a  vision. 
What  this  serpent  was,  according  to  the  teach- 
ings of  his  faith,  and  what  vengeance  it  was 
wrecking  upon  him,  the  world  would  never  know ; 
the  king  would  never  know.  Kings  and  rulers? 
What  mattered  they  now?  He  that  sent  him  to 
this  death,  what  cared  he  for  one  human  life? 
Not  death  alone,  but  this  cruel  torture — who 
would  ever  know,  or  care?  She  perchance . 

The  spell  was  broken.  The  spell  that  had 
cast  its  shroud  over  his  senses  at  the  moment 
of  death  was  broken.  From  the  thought  of  Tier 
came  the  thought  of  her  gift — the  dagger !  It 
lay  upon  the  floor  before  his  breast ;  he  had  heard 
it  clatter  there  when  the  serpent  had  swept  past 
it  in  its  last  coil. 

The  spirit  of  the  Serpent-Queen,  its  new 
211 


®Ij?    lerfcirl    nf    tlje    (gnba 

incarnation,  was  grinding  his  bones  to  dust — 
even  as  in  his  mystic  trance  he  had  fore- 
told. 

"  What  talisman  to  save  thee  from  her  coils?  " 

"  None — but  that  of  Love!  " 

Ay,  none — save  his  beloved's  parting  gift! 

Alas !  he  could  not  reach  it  without  releasing 
one  hand  from  the  monster's  throat;  the  other 
alone  would  scarce  keep  it  away.  Already  his 
arms  were  aching  from  that  rigid  thrust,  and 
quivering  all  along  their  length  in  a  ceaseless 
tremor.  And  yet  he  must  gain  the  dagger  for 
that  very  reason.  Soon  it  would  be  too  late. 
Oh,  if  his  limbs  were  free !  He  could  then  have 
thrust  a  foot  against  the  serpent's  neck,  and 
released  one  hand. 

In  the  frenzy  of  madness  he  racked  his 
brains.  Some  plan,  some  scheme,  to  reach  the 
dagger ! 

Then  like  a  glimmering  hope  the  thought 
came  to  him.  Even  in  that  position  he  could  at 
least  roll  upon  the  floor;  his  elbows  were  free. 
One  turn  of  the  body  sideways  would  bring  his 


SItfe    V*r&irt    0f    tlj?    (ga&a 

hands  within  reach  of  the  sanctuary  rails !  He 
remembered  that ;  for  sight  was  denied  him. 

Clenching  his  teeth,  and  taking  a  deep  long 
breath,  he  thrust  out  in  one  last  stupendous 
effort.  Curling  his  fingers,  he  found  an  iron 
bar.  Slowly  he  drew  the  serpent's  neck  towards 
it,  thrust  it  behind,  released  the  right  hand  an 
instant — and  seized  the  dagger. 

A  soft  rending  sound,  a  thud — and  the  blade 
was  buried  up  to  the  hilt  in  the  serpent's  throat, 
again  and  again. 

A  savage  hiss — a  swish — a  grinding,  racking 
pain  down  his  waist,  his  limbs — a  spasmodic 
beat  and  beat  from  the  serpent's  tail  upon  his 
legs — and  the  massive  coils  slowly  relaxed  from 
their  terrible  tension. 

Panting,  gasping,  his  eyes  swimming  in  a 
mist,  he  staggered  up  from  the  writhing  heap, 
then  fell  down  in  a  swoon. 

How  long  he  lay  there  he  could  not  tell.     He 
awoke  with  a  start.     But  for  the  cold,  lifeless 
coils  against  his  feet  that  deadly  struggle  in 
213 


2Iif*    Uerfcirl    nf    ttj*    <80&a 

the  dark  might  have  seemed  a  horrible  night- 
mare. His  eyes  fell  upon  the  gloom  around, 
and  gradually  it  began  to  dawn  upon  him  that 
his  task  was  not  yet  over.  Even  that  agonising 
conflict  had  been  but  a  prelude.  His  trial  yet 
remained. 

In  vague,  uncertain  purpose  he  arose  to  his 
feet,  then  stood  rooted  to  the  spot. 

What  was  that  he  saw?  Right  ahead  against 
the  solid  darkness  a  faint  light  glimmering,  a 
single  ray ;  then  another  by  its  side.  Suddenly 
the  two  leapt  downwards  in  converging  pencils, 
till  they  met  in  one  broad  band  and  shot  away 
towards  the  dark  corridor. 

Bewildered,  a  thousand  emotions  rending  his 
heart,  he  gazed  upwards. 

They  were  from  the  nostrils  of  the  idol! 

What  divine  manifestation  was  this — what 
infernal  mechanism,  rather? 

With  hands  pressed  tight  to  his  throbbing 
brow  he  thought.  Then  his  eyes  fell  upon  the 
particles  of  dust,  disturbed  from  their  long  rest 
by  his  intrusion,  shining  in  the  beam  of  light. 


©If?    Uerfcirt    0f    ttj?    (guibfl 

The  light  was  real,  material!  Not  a  phan- 
tom light. 

Like  an  inspiration  came  back  to  him  his 
guru's  words,  "  The  third  night  from  the  full 
moon." 

It  was  the  moonlight.  It  shone  through  some 
well-devised  gallery  in  the  earth  above,  and  then 
peered  down  through  the  idol's  nostrils.  That 
could  happen  only  when  the  moon  was  at  a  par- 
ticular point  in  the  heavens ;  a  particular  night, 
a  particular  hour.  This  was  the  fateful 
moment. 

But  what  meant  the  light?  What  did  it 
portend  ? 

"  Where  falls  the  light    .     .     ." 

He  remembered  these  words — the  dying  words 
of  the  builder  of  that  temple.  With  quickened 
breath  he  followed  the  light — from  the  nostrils, 
across  the  sanctuary,  along  the  steps,  into  the 
vast  corridor.  Lower  and  lower  it  bent,  bathing 
his  head,  his  breast,  his  knees  ...  it  halted 
upon  a  flagstone ! 

Then  his  panting  heart  stayed  its  beat.    The 


®ff*    Vtr&irt    nf    tlf*    (Sain 

flagstone,  a  cubit  square,  was  nowise  different 
from  its  neighbours.  He  examined  its  surface, 
but  found  no  mark,  no  inscription  upon  it.  He 
peered  into  the  lining  of  mortar  around,  but  that 
was  hard  and  level  like  the  rest.  And  all  the 
while  the  moonlight  was  moving  across  its  face. 
Soon  it  would  be  shut  off,  and  he  would  have  lost 
his  chance  for  ever. 

In  frenzied  haste  he  stuck  his  dagger  into  the 
lining,  and  ripped  open  the  mortar  all  around. 
About  that  flagstone  lay  his  salvation.  It  was 
not  above.  It  might  be  beneath. 

Plunging  the  blade  between,  he  tugged  and 
strained  till  he  felt  the  stone  move.  With  one 
exhausting  effort  he  thrust  the  dagger  beneath, 
and  lifted  the  slab. 

His  hungry  hands  groped  in  the  hollow.  With 
a  stifled  cry  he  felt  the  touch  of  cold  metal.  It 
was  an  iron  ring. 

One   frantic   pull — a   sudden   snap   as   of   a 
bursting  cord — a  spark  of  light  at  the  foot  of 
the  idol,  and  a  heavy  clang  of  steel  against  stone 
rang  through  the  vast  temple. 
216 


The  axe  had  fallen. 

And  now  with  crouching  gait  he  ascended  the 
idol.  Hand  over  hand,  and  foot  upon  the  ladder 
of  arms,  he  mounted.  A  momentary  hesitation, 
one  last  struggle  of  superstition  against  revela- 
tion, and  the  point  of  the  dagger  reached  the 
glittering  gem. 

A  sudden  pause  whilst  the  heart  beat  a  dozen 
times — and  the  precious  manik  was  gouged  out 
of  the  idol's  eye. 

A  distant  rumbling — the  idol  moved — rocked 
upon  its  seat.  The  vast  unseen  roof  creaked  and 
groaned;  the  whole  temple  swayed  and  shook 
like  a  shell  upon  the  sea. 

A  loud  chuckle — the  pitter-patter-pitter  of 
invisible  feet — a  swishing  and  a  rushing  sound, 
as  of  living  bodies  hurled  through  the  air — and 
the  terror-stricken  youth  leapt  down  with  a 
gasp  and  fled  into  the  darkness. 

Cold,   clammy   hands    swept   past   his   head. 

Dank,  musty  breaths  fanned  his  face.     Large 

lumbering  bodies,  soft  to  the  touch,  skimmed  his 

hands.       Hard,    shell-clad   objects    rolled    and 

217 


JjJljr    Urrfiirt    of    the    (6  0  &  s 

crushed  over  his  feet.  All  along  the  corridors, 
along  the  galleries,  along  the  tunnel. 

Bruised  and  bleeding,  he  reached  at  last  the 
earth  above.  Stumbling  at  every  step,  he  fled 
over  the  gorge  into  the  ravine,  into  the  gully, 
into  the  ancient  pathway,  and  fell  panting  upon 
the  level  ground.  But  with  a  stifled  cry  he 
rose  again.  Cold  terror  sat  upon  his  brow,  and 
chased  him  over  the  earth. 

What  has  he  seen  or  heard  or  felt? 

The  pale  moonlight  fell  upon  him,  around 
him,  and  far  over  the  fields  and  jungles.  But, 
ye  gods !  what  sight  was  this  ? 

A  herd  of  wild  buffaloes,  bursting  through 
the  thicket,  come  bellowing  like  thunder,  tram- 
pling the  earth,  nostrils  breathing  fire,  tails  in 
the  air.  Wild  boars  and  antelopes,  mountain 
goats  and  jackals,  black  vultures  with  flapping 
wings,  screeching  through  the  air,  and  ser- 
pents and  toads  and  frogs  creeping  and  hopping 
on  the  earth.  A  raging  wolf  ran  out,  and  a 
bleating  sheep  ran  by  its  side.  A  frantic 
elephant  came  thundering  onwards,  and  a  wild- 
218 


©If*    VtrMrt    nf    ilf?    (gnfcfl 

cat  sat  upon  its  head.  A  snarl,  a  growl — a 
yellow-bellied  tiger  leapt  forth  and  ran  pur- 
sued by  a  deer! 

They  fled  helter-skelter,  stumbling  and  fall- 
ing, and  rising  again.  Now  the  field  narrowed 
to  a  nullah,  with  thicket  on  either  flank — and, 
tiger  and  antelope,  wolf  and  sheep,  serpent  and 
toad,  fled  side  by  side  and  hustled  one  another 
in  that  stupendous  race.  Hunger,  instinct, 
ferocity,  all  was  forgotten.  They  shivered 
and  cowered  and  ran  all  together. 

For  that  which  pursued  them  in  that  com- 
mon flight  and  held  them  in  its  grip  like  the 
hand  of  death,  was  Fear. 

A  terrific  shock,  and  the  earth  trembled  as 
if  in  collision  with  a  large  planet.  An  awful 
sound  like  the  fall  of  the  heavens — and  man 
and  beast  lay  prone  upon  the  ground. 

It  was  the  parting  asunder  of  Mother  Earth. 

Dazed  and  wild-eyed,  the  youth  arose  and 
gazed  behind  through  the  cloud  of  dust  dancing 
in  the  pale  moonbeams.  The  gigantic  emi- 
nence, beneath  which  had  lain  for  countless  ages 
219 


®tft    U^rbfrl    of    fife    (gnfca 

the  subterraneous  Temple  of  the  Manik,  was 
now  flat  with  the  ground. 

Verily,  the  earthquake  had  done  its  work. 
The  secret  the  Temple  had  held  locked  up  in 
its  bowels  for  centuries  of  years  and  cycles  of 
centuries  had  been  yielded  up  at  last  at  the 
decree  of  Fate.  Well  might  the  Temple  fall. 

And  the  youth,  hugging  the  precious  gem  to 
his  breast,  went  forth  into  the  night  with  a 
bursting  heart. 

Descending  the  plateau,  he  gazed  bewildered 
before  him.  The  hillside  opposite,  in  which  he 
had  lain  hidden  the  night  before,  had  now  van- 
ished from  human  sight.  Likewise  the  stream 
beneath  had  been  wiped  off  the  face  of  the  earth. 
Dimly,  vaguely  he  took  in  the  significance  of 
that  stupendous  cataclysm:  realised  that  the 
overhanging  cliff  had  indeed  fallen,  and  filled 
up  the  stream. 

With  awe  and  fear  in  his  heart  and  the  vision 

of  Omnipotent  might  in  his  eyes  he  ran  swiftly 

over  the  fallen  mass,  down  the  declivity,  up  the 

stony  gorge  at  last  beyond  which  lay  the  plains. 

220 


SUy*    Berbiri    0f    ilje    (gnfca 

With  panting  breath  he  climbed  up,  reached  the 
narrow  opening — then  with  a  last  despairing 
cry,  a  piteous  moan,  struggled  onwards  with  his 
ebbing  strength,  reeled,  staggered,  fell  prone 
upon  his  face.  For  in  the  very  moment  of 
safety,  cruel  pitiless  Fate  had  struck  him  down. 

At  the  mouth  of  the  gorge  a  row  of  levelled 
lances  awaited  him. 

Then  in  that  agonising  moment  merciful 
oblivion  came  to  him.  He  lay  upon  the  ground 
before  the  lances,  a  senseless  mass  of  poor 
bleeding  humanity  that  had  been  sorely  tried, 
had  struggled  bravely  through  countless  perils, 
then  in  the  moment  of  victory  that  had  cost 
him  his  last  ebbing  strength  had  been  struck 
cruelly  down  by  mocking  Fate.  His  destiny 
was  fulfilled :  that  was  his  last  conscious  thought 
ere  the  oblivion  enshrouded  him  in  its  pall.  .  .  . 

But,  merciful  Bhugwan,  what  marvel  was  this  ? 

The  lances  did  not  descend  upon  him  and 
transfix  him.  Instead,  a  hand  was  stretched 
forth,  another,  and  he  was  lifted  up  tenderly, 
silently. 


®ij?    Ueritrt    of    il|?    (Softs 

"  Close  the  gorge !  "  It  was  a  hurried  whisper, 
a  deep  guttural  voice  that  gave  the  command. 

And  at  Rama  Krishna's  word  the  guards 
piled  up  the  boulders  they  had  already  collected 
against  the  mouth  of  the  gorge.  .  .  . 

Suddenly  a  distant  rumbling,  louder,  louder — 
a  might  roar. 

"  Back !  Back  all— on  either  side ! "  Rama 
Krishna  shouted  above  the  din. 

The  guards  ran  back  from  the  gorge  into  the 
shelter  of  the  forest.  Simple-minded  warriors, 
they  knew  not  that  the  terrible  cataclysm  was 
not  yet  over. 

The  torrent  came  down  with  a  roar  of 
thunder,  gathering  force  at  the  narrow  declivity. 
When  the  overhanging  cliff  had  fallen  into  the 
stream  in  the  earthquake,  it  had  but  diverted 
the  channel.  Rama  Krishna  knew  that  soon  the 
piled-up  water  on  the  upper  side  would  overtop 
the  barrier — then  rush  down  in  an  irresistible 
flood,  sweeping  all  things  before  it. 

A  sudden  shock — a  piercing  shriek,  a  human 
shriek,  far  down  the  declivity,  another,  yet 


another — and  the  wall  of  water  hungrily  de- 
voured its  fleeing  prey — reached  the  gorge, 
cast  up  a  column  of  spray  thirty  cubits  above 
the  boulders. 

The  spray  subsided,  and  a  while  after  the 
sound  of  moving  waters  died  out.  All  was  still. 
The  guards  crept  to  the  mouth  of  the  gorge 
and  peered  over  the  boulders. 

Ten  cubits  beneath  them  the  declivity  was 
now  a  sluggish  molten  lake.  Seven  fathoms 
below  its  surface  lay  hid  the  evidence  of  the 
swift  retribution  it  had  wreaked  upon  the  flee- 
ing Thugs. 

"  Come  away,"  the  guards  said,  one  to 
another.  "The  brethern  are  avenged." 

They  turned  to  their  charge.  For  Narayan 
Lai  was  still  their — prisoner ! 

Ten  days  after,  a  haggard  and  emaciated 
form,  with  hands  and  feet  cut  open  in  a  hundred 
wounds,  a  madman's  haunted  look  in  his  sunken 
eyes,  and  raving,  delirious  words  upon  his  lips, 
was  brought  back  by  the  guards  to  the  palace. 

"The  manik,  O  King!" 


With  these  words  Narayan  Lai  delivered  up 
his  trust,  and  fell  down  in  a  swoon  at  his 
master's  feet. 

•  •  •  •  • 

"Of  a  truth,  high  was  the  destiny  of  this 
man,"  the  Great  King  murmured.  "  Verily,  such 
perils  could  be  sent  to  him  alone  for  whom  much 
reward  was  in  store."  He  mused  awhile,  think- 
ing of  the  perils  of  his  own  youth  on  the  field  of 
battle ;  and  thus  thinking,  gathered  hope  for  the 
days  yet  to  come. 

"  But  tell  me  this,  O  man  of  learning :  Why 
was  Narayan  Lai  made  to  undergo  so  many 
trials  ?  Surely  Parameshwar  could  give  his  ver- 
dict once  for  all  ?  " 

The  Story-teller  marvelled  at  so  great  a 
wisdom. 

"  True,  O  Heaven-born ;  but  it  is  as  easy  for 
Parameshwar  to  manifest  his  will  six  times  in 
succession  as  once — or  sixty  times  six  times.  In 
an  ordeal  dependent  upon  divine  judgment,  we 
mortals  may  make  any  stipulation  we  choose. 
If  Parameshwar  accepts  the  terms,  he  will  fulfil 


She    Uerbtrt    nf    ilj*    <g0ba 

them  in  their  entirety.  So,  if  five  times  Narayan 
Lai  escaped,  but  at  the  sixth  succumbed,  then 
indeed  would  the  verdict  of  the  Deity  have  been 
against  him  from  the  beginning.  The  race  is  at 
the  finish,  not  at  the  start." 

"But  tell  me,  what  was  the  design  of  Para- 
meshwar  in  sending  the  earthquake  ?  " 

"  To  aid  him ;  and  yet  to  try  him.  Earth- 
quakes and  landslips  are  not  unknown  in  the 
lower  altitudes  of  the  Himalayas.  And  per- 
chance the  heavy  rainfall,  and  then  the  mechan- 
ical forces  that  caused  the  fall  of  the  axe,  might 
have  set  into  action  the  initial  movement.  Great 
results  often  have  small  causes ;  even  a  flicker- 
ing spark  will  set  a  whole  forest  ablaze,  and  a 
tiny  hole  in  a  dyke  that  a  child's  small  hand 
might  stop  will  turn  a  sea-girt  lowland  into  a 
raging  gulf. 

"  As  regards  the  serpent,  such  a  creature  may 
sometimes  be  found  lurking  in  ancient  ruins. 
But,  O  Heaven-born,  the  re-incarnation  of  the 
original  serpent  that  carried  the  manik  upon  its 
head — would  it  not  be  there  on  such  an  occasion 


©Ij*    UerfcUt    of    tlje    <S0fca 

when  the  first  hand  came  to  despoil  it  that  was 
not  guilty  of  the  basest  ingratitude?  Would 
it  not  be  there  to  test  if  verily  Narayan  Lai 
would  escape  death  by  divine  aid  because  of  his 
innocence?  For  it  was  indeed  Narayan  Lai's 
fate  that  he  should  suffer  peril  upon  peril,  and 
a  thousand  unseen  perils. 

"Thus  in  his  next  trial,"  continued  the 
Story-teller,  "but  for  an  unknown  friend  he 
had  died  a  cruel  death.  True,  it  was  his  fate  to 
have  that  friend;  nevertheless  he  had  cause  to 
thank  the  gods  for  so  great  a  love." 


226 


THE    SERPENT'S    TOOTH 

EOR  three  days  and  three  nights  Nar- 
ayan  Lai  lay  in  the  swoon  of  death, 
with  but  intermittent  flashes  of  con- 
sciousness. The  stupendous  ordeal  he 
had  gone  through  in  the  search  for  the  precious 
manik  had  left  its  impress  upon  him  for  ever. 
Thrice  he  had  started  from  his  bed  with  a  cry 
of  terror,  flinging   off  the  blankets   from  his 
limbs. 

"  The  serpent !  The  serpent !  Can  ye  not  see 
it?  It  is  enfolding  my  limbs  in  its  coils,  grind- 
ing my  bones  to  dust!  Its  fangs  are  at  my 
throat — keep  it  back,  keep  it  back ! " 
Thus  in  his  delirium  he  fought  anew  that  terri- 
ble battle  with  the  boa-constrictor  in  the  subter- 
raneous temple.  The  prison  guards  gave  him 
such  rough  comfort  as  they  might,  but  it  scarce 
3S7 


Slje    HUrbirt    nf    ilj?    <S  0  &  0 

sufficed  to  cure  him  of  such  sickness  of  both 
mind  and  body. 

Then  on  the  third  night  the  Princess  Devala 
said  to  her  handmaid,  "  Leila,  dost  thou  love 
me?  Then  lend  me  thy  garments." 

But  Leila,  understanding  her  purpose,  shook 
her  head  sadly.  "Wouldst  thou  go  to  him  in 
disguise,  Heaven-born,  to  nurse  him  back  to  life? 
But  what  avail  ?  Remember  he  has  yet  two  more 
trials — and  a  time  may  come  when  thou  alone 
canst  save  him  from  certain  death!  Reserve 
thine  own  effort  for  that  supreme  crisis." 

"  But  why  not  now  as  well  as  then  ?  " 

"  Because  if  thou  goest  to  him  now  and  thy 
disguise  be  detected,  as  well  it  might,  thou  shalt 
have  lost  all  chance  of  going  to  him  in  the 
greater  need.  For  then  thou  shalt  be  so  well 
guarded — awaiting  the  end,  thine  and  his — that 
even  I  could  not  serve  thee." 

"  But  is  not  this  the  supreme  crisis  ? "  the 
princess   asked   again,   resolved   in   her   inmost 
heart  that  in  the  hour  of  need  she  would  fling 
away  her  all  for  her  lover's  sake. 
£28 


"A  little  while,  yet  a  little  while— and  the 
hour  of  darkness  will  be  at  hand,  when  none  but 
thou  mayest  save  him!"  For  gifted,  like  some 
maidens,  with  a  vision  of  the  future,  Leila 
vaguely  felt  a  presentiment  in  her  heart  that, 
great  as  Narayan  Lai's  perils  had  been  so  far, 
at  the  culminating  ordeal  when  man  and  beast 
and  devil  would  be  let  loose  against  him,  either 
he  must  sink  in  the  strife  or  the  Supreme  Para- 
meshwar  would  declare  His  verdict  by  the  hand 
of  the  very  woman  for  the  love  of  whom  Nara- 
yan Lai  was  undergoing  these  perils. 

"  Meanwhile  hope,  watch  and  pray,"  she  said 
to  the  princess.  "  And  fear  not  for  the  present. 
Even  now  the  guru  and  his  brethren  are  tend- 
ing him.  For  they  have  obtained  leave  to 
nurse  him  and  minister  to  him — till  the  next 
trial." 

Thus  when  Narayan  Lai  had  regained  his 
health  and  strength,  his  master  bade  him  appear 
before  him  for  the  fifth  ordeal.  And  this  the 
king  did  on  the  very  morning  of  the  trial,  with- 
out any  previous  warning — so  that  the  guru 
229 


Sly?    Uerairi    nf    fly?    (S050 

and  his  brethren  had  to  take  a  hurried  fare- 
well. 

But  the  night  before  a  strange  scene  had 
been  enacted  in  the  palace  courtyard.  Going 
with  her  silver  pitcher  to  the  inner  foun- 
tain, Leila  saw  the  self-same  mendicant  that 
once  before  had  begged  alms  from  the  palace 
guards. 

A  vague  presentiment  seized  her  heart.  She 
called  in  the  mendicant  to  the  fountain  and  gave 
him  of  her  bounty.  The  old  man,  stooping 
down  to  give  her  his  blessing,  whispered  into 
her  ear: 

"  Within  the  king's  packets  lies  death.  The 
alchemist  who  made  them  up  is  a  friend,  but 
must  needs  obey  the  royal  command.  Thus  all 
night  must  I  seek  the  antidote;  but  at  my 
return  it  may  be  too  late!  Say,  hast  thou  a 
lover  amongst  the  guards  ?  " 

"  But  he  may  be  impotent ! "  she  mur- 
mured softly.  "  His  very  duty  may  keep  him 
away " 

"  Then  the  lover  of  a  friend  of  thine  whose 
230 


SItj*    Herfcirt    nf    tlje    (Sn&a 

duty  might  take  him  to  the  trial?  Answer 
quickly ! " 

A  vague  light  crept  into  Leila's  mind.  She 
must  find  two  friends  in  the  palace:  Harnam 
Das,  if  a  man  of  position  were  needed;  and 
another  for  humbler  duties.  In  frantic  haste 
she  racked  her  brains.  There  was  indeed  a  serv- 
ing-maid of  the  palace,  deeply  attached  to  the 
princess  and  betrothed  to  one  of  the  attendants  ; 
their  marriage  had  long  been  deferred  for  the 
want  of  a  dower.  Then  Leila  inwardly  vowed 
that  out  of  her  own  dower  would  the  deficiency 
be  made  good.  All  this  passed  through  her 
mind  in  a  flash  of  inspiration. 

"  Enough !  The  guru  will  do  the  rest ;  I  but 
obey  him  in  seeking  the  antidote.  Yet  the  trial 
may  have  already  begun  when  I  return;  thus 
prepare  thy  friend's  lover  for  his  task."  Say- 
ing this,  the  mendicant  vanished  in  the  dark. 

Inside,  in  a  corridor,  the  Jemadar  of  the 
Palace,  the  Thug  in  disguise,  was  waiting  for 
Leila,  seeking  to  waylay  her.  Since  his  friends 
had  perished  in  the  ravine  in  Narayan  LaPs 


SFlf*    !*r&Ui    0f    tlje    (gnfca 

fourth  trial,  he  knew  that  he  must  carry  out  his 
evil  deeds  within  the  palace.  Before  the  end  of 
the  trials  Narayan  Lai  must  die;  else  his  own 
life  would  be  forfeited;  the  secret  spies  of  his 
master  would  see  to  that.  Thus  if  Narayan  Lai 
were  not  killed  in  the  trials,  if  instead  he 
triumphed  over  them  all,  then  must  he  slay  the 
youth  in  the  very  moment  of  triumph,  or  perish 
himself ;  for  afterwards  it  would  be  too  late. 

Thus  his  first  endeavour  was  that  the  youth 
should  die  in  the  trials;  that  would  spare  him 
his  own  peril.  And  somehow  the  false  jemadar 
seemed  to  realise  that  he  must  silence  Leila  for 
ever  to  gain  that  end.  He  awaited  her  coming 
in  the  corridor,  his  hand  upon  the  dagger  in  his 
girdle.  If  she  shrieked,  he  would  silence  her  then 
and  there.  But  if  possible,  he  would  carry  her 
away  noislessly,  as  once  before  he  had  nearly 
done — fulfil  his  other  nameless  purpose  upon 
her,  then  slay  her  and  cast  her  body  into  the 
ravine  beyond  the  palace  wall.  .  .  . 

Suddenly  Leila  paused.  At  the  beginning  of 
the  dark  corridor  she  dreaded  there  was  a  short 


side  passage  leading  into  an  alcove.  Here  behind 
a  curtain  she  paused  to  take  breath.  Young  as 
she  was,  the  hidden  perils  of  the  palace  had 
taught  her  wisdom — and  stratagems. 

A  while  after  a  maiden's  veiled  form,  with  a 
pitcher  balanced  upon  her  head,  seemed  to  be 
dimly  visible  at  the  beginning  of  the  side  pas- 
sage, nearest  the  corridor.  It  seemed  to  hesi- 
tate a  moment,  before  plunging  into  the  cor- 
ridor. 

A  stealthy  sound  was  heard — less  a  muffled 
foot  step  than  a  hard  breathing.  Nearer  and 
nearer  came  the  sound — from  pillar  to  pillar. 
With  a  sudden  swoop  the  jemadar  fell  upon  his 
prey — flung  his  arms  around  the  veiled  form. 
Down  came  the  pitcher  with  a  crash  and  lay 
broken  in  a  thousand  fragments ;  for  it  was  an 
earthern  pitcher.  That  instant  another  form 
whisked  past  him,  holding  a  silver  pitcher  in 
her  hands,  not  upon  her  head.  With  a  muttered 
curse  the  jemadar  turned  to  her.  But  already 
Leila  was  far  down  the  corridor. 

And  the  veiled  form,  that  had  borne  the 
233 


Stf*    H*rMri    0f    ilf?    (Soils 

empty  earthen  pitcher  upon  its  head  and  whom 
the  jemadar  had  embraced?  It  suddenly  threw 
off  the  veil,  and  held  him  tight  in  its  grasp !  One 
fierce  struggle,  and  the  two  were  upon  the  floor, 
Harnam  Das  on  top.  Then  a  quick  turn  of  the 
wrist,  and  the  jemadar  was  uppermost.  Releas- 
ing one  hand  he  sought  for  something  at  his 
girdle.  But  clutching  his  antagonist's  head 
with  both  arms,  Harnam  gave  a  sudden  twist 
and  rolled  over  on  his  side,  bringing  down  his 
foe  before  him.  Thus  in  grim  silence  they 
wrestled;  for  each  felt  that  this  was  a  private 
matter,  and  the  world  must  not  know  of  it. 
Each  saw  nothing  of  the  other,  and  knew  not 
of  his  identity ;  but  each  felt  instinctively 
that,  if  so  permitted,  the  fight  must  be  to  the 
death. 

But  it  was  not  so  permitted.  The  sound  of 
hurried  fotsteps,  and  a  crowd  of  eunuchs  burst 
from  the  inner  palace.  Even  as  Leila  had 
reached  the  door,  set  down  the  pitcher,  and  was 
about  to  turn  single-handed  to  her  lover's  aid, 
the  eunuchs  heard  the  scuffle  through  the  open 


OJlj*    HerfcUi    0?    ilye    C506s 

door.     They  ran  down  the  corridor  with  drawn 
tulwars — but  found  nothing ! 

With  common  instinct  the  combatants  had 
parted,  and  had  fled  different  ways  into  the 
darkness!  .  .  . 

Thus  in  the  subsequent  commotion  and  talk 
among  the  attendants  of  the  palace  on  this  night 
before  Narayan  Lai's  fifth  ordeal,  it  did  not 
seem  strange  that  an  affrighted  serving-maid 
of  the  palace  should  confer  with  her  betrothed 
and  seek  his  protection  in  going  about  her 
duties. 

The  day  of  the  trial  came,  and  Narayan  Lai 
was  taken  before  his  master.  The  scene  was 
once  more  the  audience-hall  of  the  palace. 
Narayan  Lai  was  taken  there  in  his  bare  clothes 
— white  trousers,  white  tunic,  and  white  turban. 
The  councillors  sat  once  more  before  the  throne, 
leaving  a  space  for  the  juggler  twelve  cubits  in 
diameter. 

At    a    sign    from    the    king    an    attendant 
approached  with  a  long  piece  of  leather  three 
fingers  thick,  and  cut  off  with  his  sword  a  por- 
235 


tion  that  reached  from  his  waist  to  his  feet.  He 
came  and  placed  it  on  the  floor  midway  between 
Narayan  Lai  and  the  throne,  and  on  a  line  with 
them.  There  it  lay  inert  and  motionless — a 
piece  of  leather.  All  wondered  why  it  lay  there. 

"  Roll  up  thy  sleeves,"  bade  the  king. 

Without  a  word  Narayan  Lai  obeyed,  and 
stood  with  arms  bared  to  the  elbow. 

"That  is  thy  subject,"  said  the  king,  point- 
ing to  the  rigid  black  line.  "  Breathe  life  into  it 
before  my  eyes,  so  that  it  may  live  and  move." 

Narayan  Lai  seemed  lost  for  a  while  in  deep 
thought,  his  eyes  closed,  his  lips  half  open. 
Then  a  faint  smile  broke  upon  them  as  he  real- 
ised the  nature  of  the  task  he  was  bidden  to 
perform. 

He  knelt  down  before  the  line,  resting  upon 
his  heels,  and  stretched  forth  his  right  hand  till 
the  fingers  just  closed  over  the  end  of  the 
leather.  Gently  he  began  to  wriggle  it  upon  the 
floor,  the  undulating  motion  passing  along  the 
leather  from  end  to  end.  His  left  arm  was 
bent  round  over  his  back  in  the  manner  of  a 
236 


Sll*    Urrfciri    0f    ttje    (gnfcs 

fencer.  Perhaps  he  did  that  to  indicate  that 
the  left  hand  would  be  no  confederate  of  the 
right. 

Gradually  he  accelerated  the  motion,  working 
with  his  wrist  alone.  The  curves  began  to 
increase  in  width,  and  the  further  end  to  come 
nearer. 

Soon  the  vibration  became  so  rapid  that 
the  coils  seemed  to  telescope  into  one  another. 
Suddenly  he  thrust  forward  the  whole  arm, 
while  still  maintaining  the  lateral  motion.  The 
free  end  shot  out  and  licked  the  foot  of  the  dai's 
— then  was  drawn  back  as  rapidly. 

Faster  and  faster  grew  the  pace.  It  became 
a  haze  of  sweeping  curves.  Once  he  raised  the 
left  hand  from  his  back,  and  rapidly  circled  it 
over  the  wriggling  mass — then  seeming  to 
repent  of  his  forgetfulness,  drew  it  back  hastily 
to  its  resting-place.  The  wise  ones  among  the 
spectators  shook  their  heads  at  that,  and  smiled 
knowingly.  A  cross-eyed  sage  plucked  at  his 
neighbour's  sleeve  and  silently  pointed  to  the 
head  of  the  mass.  The  other  dropped  his  spec- 


SFlye    U^rfciri    af    if??    <60fts 

tacles  upon  his  nose  and  peered  over  them 
curiously. 

"  The  end  is  in  the  air,"  he  muttered,  gravely 
re-adjusting  his  glases. 

The  end  of  the  coil  was  no  longer  upon  the 
floor;  it  was  a  span  above  it.  Perhaps  the 
rapidity  of  the  motion  had  given  it  some  species 
of  centrifugal  force. 

The  grey-haired  councillors  around  heard 
the  words,  and,  casting  gravity  to  the  winds, 
craned  their  necks  like  excited  schoolboys. 

"A  thick  wire  at  the  end  of  the  leather,  to 
give  it  that  support,"  exclaimed  one  in  a  moment 
of  inspiration.  "  It  must  have  been  caught  up 
from  the  floor." 

"Too  thick  for  a  wire,"  objected  another; 
"  it  is  even  thicker  than  the  leather." 

"  That  is  only  a  deception  of  the  eye,"  main- 
tained the  sage,  when  someone  on  the  other  side 
of  the  da'is  gave  a  loud  gasp. 

"  It  is  expanding !  It  is  as  broad  as  a  child's 
hand." 

"  A  woman's  rather,"  corrected  another. 


®lf?    H^rbirt    nf    tlj?    <g0&0 

"  A  man's ! "  cried  out  a  heavy  old  warrior, 
clutching  at  his  huge  whiskers  that  lay  twisted 
over  his  ears. 

Truly,  the  end  of  the  leather  was  like  a  man's 
hand,  the  fingers  bent  slightly  inwards ;  it  was 
just  visible  over  the  haze.  That  instant  the 
middle  finger  seemed  to  lengthen  out,  a  full  inch 
beyond  the  others. 

"And  it  is  a  wire  at  the  end  of  it,"  mur- 
mured the  man  of  wisdom.  "  Only  it  seems  very 
thin  now." 

His  neighbour  protested  that  there  was  no 
wire.  Then  hastily  he  admitted  there  was — not 
one,  but  two.  A  moment  later  he  denied  there 
was  any.  Then,  again,  he  ate  his  words,  and 
confessed  there  was. 

Two  tiny  wires  seemed  to  emerge  from  the  tip 
of  that  middle  finger.  They  quivered  the  tenth 
of  a  second  in  the  air,  then  were  withdrawn. 
Again  they  darted  out,  and  as  quickly  vanished. 
Like  miniature  forked  lightning  they  vibrated 
to  and  fro. 

Suddenly  Narayan  Lai  leapt  to  his  feet,  lift- 
239 


ing  the  mass  of  curves  still  wriggling  in  the  air, 
flicked  it  violently,  then  dashed  it  to  the  floor — 
a  supple  line  of  black  flesh,  thick  as  a  man's 
hand  at  the  other  end. 

Slowly  the  head  begin  to  rise,  higher  and 
higher,  slowly  the  tail  began  to  coil  inwards, 
round  and  round.  The  black  wires  began  to 
dart  anew,  in  and  out.  Two  shining  points  of 
light  burst  forth  on  the  broad  head  behind  the 
wires. 

It  was  a  living  serpent.  Awhile  it  stood 
erect,  seeking  a  prey. 

"Maro!  Maro!  (Kill!  Kill!)"  broke  out  a 
babel  of  voices.  The  huddled  heap  of  undig- 
nified councillors  fell  back  towards  the  walls  in 
sudden  haste. 

But  with  a  swift  stride  Narayan  Lai  caught 
up  the  serpent  in  his  right  hand  by  the  tail. 
In  an  instant  the  head  curled  round  with  an 
angry  hiss.  An  arm's  length  from  his  hand  it 
oscillated  just  once  back  to  take  sure  aim  upon 
it,  then  launched  out  for  the  fatal  blow. 

But  quicker  than  lightning  Narayan  Lai's 


NARAYAN  LAL  CAUGHT  UP  THE  SERPENT  IN  HIS 
RIGHT  HAND  BY  THE  TAIL  " 


left  hand  closed  over  the  right — slid  along  the 
serpent's  body,  tightening  the  fingers  as  it  went 
— and  gripped  the  baffled  creature  by  the  neck. 
He  pressed  the  thumb  upon  the  throat,  forcing 
the  serpent  to  open  wide  its  mouth. 

"  Behold  the  poison  fangs,  O  King !  "  Two 
pairs  of  white  ivory  gleamed  within,  one  on 
either  side.  Each  fang  was  no  bigger  than  a 
grain  of  rice ;  yet  one  single  scratch  from  it 
upon  the  juggler's  arm  would  have  turned  him 
into  a  blackened  corpse. 

"  A  sword  and  a  flute !  "  he  gasped  between 
his  pursed  lips,  his  wrist  shaking  violently  from 
the  desperate  struggles  of  the  serpent  to  escape. 
They  were  brought  after  a  seeming  age  and 
placed  by  his  side — the  sword,  a  long  narrow 
blade. 

"Narayan  Lai  bent  down  over  the  floor  and 
thrust  the  serpent's  tail  under  his  right  foot. 
He  seized  the  flute  with  his  right  hand  that  was 
now  free,  and  began  a  weird  chant  upon  it — 
stretching  forth  his  left  hand  that  still  held  the 
serpent  by  the  neck,  as  far  as  it  could  reach. 


SFIf?    $?rbtri    of    tlj?    <8a&a 

Suddenly,  with  a  furious  climax  upon  the 
flute,  he  sprang  back  from  the  floor,  releasing 
that  instant  his  left  hand  from  the  serpent's 
neck.  Ere  the  dazed  creature  could  resolve  to 
strike,  he  stepped  back  four  cubits  from  it  and 
began  a  soft  soothing  melody — like  distant 
music  across  still  waters. 

For  a  while  the  serpent  hesitated.  Anger 
and  joy  battled  in  its  glistening  eyes.  It  raised 
its  head,  poised  it  a  moment  in  the  air,  arched 
its  back,  recoiled  to  take  aim — then  relapsed 
into  a  suppliant  column,  bowing  humbly  to  the 
music. 

The  music  changed.  Narayan  Lai  glided 
into  a  lullaby,  low  and  gentle.  In  response  the 
serpent  waved  its  head  from  side  to  side  in 
graceful  motion.  Softer  and  softer  came  the 
music,  and  gentler  and  gentler  bowed  the  ser- 
pent's hood.  The  music  seemed  to  die  away  in 
a  muffled  echo,  and  the  serpent  held  its  length 
erect  in  the  air  as  if  lulled  to  sleep  in  that 
upright  attitude. 

Again  the  tune  was  changed.     It  was  now 


Sly?    Uerfciri    nf    llf*    (gn&a 

the  quick-pulsing  beat  and  broad  rhythm  of 
"  Taza  bi  taza"  the  most  famous  melody  of  the 
land.  In  a  moment  the  delighted  creature 
awoke  from  its  dream,  puffed  out  its  hood  to  the 
utmost,  and  swayed  its  entire  length  in  har- 
mony. But  yet  the  time  grew  faster.  The 
oscillating  coil  swept  out  in  pride  and  pleasure 
and  joy,  the  tail  beating  upon  the  floor  in 
unison. 

The  music  burst  forth  into  a  rhapsody,  wild, 
fierce,  interwoven  with  passion  and  pain.  Nara- 
yan  Lai  strode  across  the  arena,  stamping  at 
each  furious  blast.  The  serpent  leapt  to  the 
strains  in  frantic  motion,  hissed  and  struck  out 
at  imaginary  foes,  circled  round  the  juggler, 
and  followed  him  about  like  a  trailing  shadow. 
Thus  did  Narayan  Lai  beguile  it,  and  work  it 
up  to  the  frenzy  of  madness. 

Suddenly  the  flute  rang  out  in  a  shrill  screech ; 
a  series  of  discordant  notes  burst  out  in  a  loud 
crescendo,  then  stopped  dead  short. 

The  serpent  winced  and  writhed  in  pain,  as 
if  struck  by  a  whip.  With  an  angry  hiss  it 
243 


Sije    Hcr&irt    of    tlte    (Bobs 

launched  forth  from  the  unfolding  coil,  straight 
at  Narayan  Lai. 

But  an  instant  quicker  he  had  seized  the 
sword  with  his  right  hand,  the  left  still  clutch- 
ing the  flute.  Whilst  yet  the  approaching  line 
was  a  yard  from  his  breast  the  glittering  blade 
passed  clean  through  it.  The  head  sprang 
from  the  blow;  Narayan  Lai  raised  the  flute 
before  him ;  the  severed  head  of  the  serpent  fell 
upon  the  bulb  of  the  flute,  the  open  j  aws  closing 
upon  it  in  that  dying  grip. 

The  body  relapsed  upon  the  floor,  quivered 
and  writhed,  and  marked  its  passage  along  it 
with  a  broad  red  band — then  lay  still.  Narayan 
Lai  stepped  to  the  dais,  lifted  up  the  flute,  and 
pointed  to  the  crimson  drops  issuing  from  the 

severed  head. 

"  Behold,  O  Heaven-born,  this  living  flesh !  " 
"  Shabash,  Narayan!  Shabash! "  a  cheer 
passed  from  lip  to  lip,  swelling  to  a  wild  shout 
in  the  courtyard  beyond.  But  even  in  that 
moment  of  exultation  the  voice  of  the  king 
hushed  them  all. 


(Eljapter 


THE    POISONED    CUP 

'RE  the  applause  had  died  away,  and 
in  the  very  midst  of  his  triumph,  the 
king  turned  to  the  juggler. 

"  Thou  hast  given  life  where  there 
was  no  life  ;  that  was  well.  Now  give  life  to  thy- 
self —  after  I  have  taken  it  from  thee  for  an 
hour's  space." 

Narayan  Lai  caught  his  breath  as  he  heard 
these  words.  He  marked  the  signal  that  brought 
forth  two  men  from  a  doorway  beside  the  throne. 
What  danger  threatened  him  he  knew  not;  the 
nature  of  this  trial  was  beyond  his  anticipa- 
tion. 

He  marked  the  two  men  well;  his  instinct  led 
him  to  gather  quickly  whatever  clue  he  could. 
The  first  was  middle-aged  ;  he  was  unknown  to 
him.  The  other,  a  young  man,  he  recognised 


®If*    Uerbiri    af    ilf?    (Sn&a 

as  one  of  the  attendants  of  the  palace.  They 
bore  trays  in  their  hands,  that  of  the  first  con- 
taining three  silver  goblets,  that  of  the  other  two 
pieces  of  conch  shell,  and  two  little  packages  of 
cloth.  They  knelt  before  the  king,  who  broke 
with  his  own  hands  the  seal  upon  each  package. 
The  seal  was  that  of  his  signet-ring. 

Two  of  the  goblets  were  empty;  the  third, 
double  the  size  of  the  others,  was  full  of  water. 
Setting  the  tray  down,  the  first  attendant 
retired.  Narayan  Lai  instinctively  noted  that 
the  second  attendant,  the  young  man,  lagged 
somewhat  behind.  He  laid  down  the  tray,  and 
opened  one  of  the  packages — a  piece  of  cloth  a 
quarter  of  a  handkerchief  in  size.  It  contained 
a  white  powder. 

"Diamond-dust,"  spoke  the  king  from  the 
throne.  "One  shellful  of  it  will  be  mixed  with 
water.  That  thou  must  drink." 

But  diamond-dust  was  a  deadly  poison.  One 
shellful  would  kill  three  big  men. 

The  attendant  opened  the  other  package.     It 
contained  a  dark  brown  powder. 
246 


®Ije    U*r&trf    nf    lly?    (Softs 

"Datura,"  said  the  king  calmly.  "  One  shell- 
ful  of  it  will  be  mixed  with  water.  That  thou 
must  drink  likewise." 

And  likewise  datura  was  a  deadly  poison.  One 
shellful  would  kill  three  strong  horses.  In 
either  case  Narayan  Lai  would  die  an  agonising 
death.  He  realised  that  without  the  royal  word. 
He  saw  darkness  before  him.  There  was  no 
escape  this  time. 

Yet  from  his  infancy  had  he  been  trained  to 
struggle  to  the  bitter  end.  And  if  he  refused 
the  feat,  he  would  forthwith  be  adjudged  guilty. 
That,  surely,  was  certain  death. 

The  king  noted  his  hesitation.  He  smiled 
grimly,  and  waved  his  hand.  A  curtain  was 
flung  aside  at  the  further  end  of  the  hall,  reveal- 
ing the  outer  courtyard.  A  huge  elephant,  a 
fine  tusker  eight  cubits  (twelve  feet)  high,  came 
into  view.  Guided  by  the  mahout,  it  paused 
before  a  block  of  wood  a  cubit  high. 

For  the  elephant  was  the  high  executioner  of 
the  kingdom.  The  criminal,  found  guilty  of 
high  treason,  would  be  made  to  kneel  before  the 


©If*    Vtritirt    0f    tl|0    (Softs 

block,  and  place  his  head  upon  it.  The  elephant 
would  lay  its  foot  upon  the  head,  and  press  with 
its  whole  weight  upon  it.  The  next  instant  the 
traitor's  head  would  be  flat  with  the  wood. 

"  Choose  between  the  elephant  and  the 
poisons,"  bade  the  king,  in  a  level  voice; 
for  to  him  Narayan  Lai  still  seemed  to  be  a 
traitor. 

In  calm  acquiescence  the  youth  bowed  his 
head;  he  would  choose  the  poisons;  if  need  be, 
would  die  fighting  to  the  last  in  silent  protesta- 
tion of  his  innocence.  If  he  failed — well,  he 
could  die  but  once.  And  the  princess?  Surely 
merciful  Parameshwar  would  grant  her  a  happy 
release  simultaneously  with  his  own.  For  he 
remembered  that  she  had  at  her  bosom  a  true 
and  unerring  friend  that  would  release  her  from 
all  pain. 

These  thoughts  passed  through  his  mind 
whilst  yet  the  attendant  was  measuring  out  the 
poisons.  Suddenly,  in  the  very  deed,  the  menial 
raised  the  shell  before  him  as  if  to  see  that  it 
were  brimful.  That  instant  Narayan  Lai 
248 


caught  a  strange  gleam  in  his  eye.  It  was  just 
a  momentary  glance,  but  full  of  a  hidden  fire.  A 
mute  appeal,  passionate,  fearful. 

As  he  lowered  the  shell  into  a  goblet,  the 
glance  travelled  down  from  Narayan's  face  and 
lingered  the  fraction  of  a  second  at  the  edge  of 
the  tray. 

Peeping  from  beneath  it  Narayan  observed 
the  fringe  of  a  cloth,  no  wider  than  a  wisp  of 
straw;  that  alone  was  visible.  In  a  flash  of 
inspiration  he  realised.  It  was  a  third  package. 
The  attendant  had  held  it  in  his  fingers  under 
cover  of  the  tray. 

A  thousand  emotions  rending  his  heart,  the 
juggler  tortured  his  mind  to  guess  what  this 
could  mean.  Some  unknown  friend  had  sent  it 
to  him ;  instinct  and  the  memory  of  his  love  told 
him  that.  But  how  it  could  save  him,  he  knew 
not  yet.  For  a  moment  he  thought  that  per- 
chance he  could  substitute  its  contents  for  the 
poisons.  But  with  a  sinking  heart  he  saw  the 
attendant  fill  each  goblet  of  poison  with  water. 
To  dispose  of  them  secretly  now  was  impossible ; 
249 


2Hf*    Vtr&irt    of    iff*    (Sn&a 

he  had  no  means  of  concealing  two  goblets  of 
fluid.  One  hope  remained;  the  package  itself 
might  suggest  a  method. 

As  the  attendant  withdrew,  Narayan  seized 
the  tray  with  both  hands,  as  if  to  draw  it  closer 
to  him.  The  right  hand  covered  the  edge  where 
the  hidden  package  lay ;  the  left  found  its  grip 
near  one  of  the  empty  cloths  upon  it. 

Whilst  moving  the  tray  to  his  feet  he  drew 
in  the  package  with  the  little  finger  of  the  right 
hand,  and  slipped  it  to  the  hollow  of  the  palm. 
With  the  left  hand  he  picked  up  the  empty  cloth 
and  transferred  it  to  the  right — as  if  intending 
to  wipe  the  goblets  with  it. 

The  right  hand  now  held  two  similar  pieces 
of  cloth;  one  empty,  the  other  that  from  an 
unknown  friend.  But  the  spectators  knew  only 
of  the  former. 

With  the  little  finger,  curved  beneath,  he 
felt  that  the  package  was  loose.  It  contained 
something  soft;  perhaps  another  powder.  To 
transfer  the  contents  from  one  cloth  to  the 
other — whilst  ostensibly  smoothing  down  the 
250 


©Ife    UeriHri    af    tlf?    (Snba 

creases  of  the  latter — was  not  a  difficult  task 
to  him. 

Hiding  the  cloth  now  containing  the  powder 
in  the  hollow  of  the  hand,  he  proceeded  to  wipe 
a  goblet  with  the  other.  The  world  thought  it 
was  the  same  one  as  before.  The  world  was 
wrong. 

With  a  catch  in  his  breath  he  manipulated 
this  cloth,  his  hungry  eyes  searching  for  some 
hidden  clue.  First  one  corner,  then  another  he 
used  to  wipe  the  sides,  the  rim,  the  stem  of  the 
goblet. 

"  This  first."  His  swimming  eyes  read  these 
words  faintly  traced  upon  it.  He  felt  the  earth 
reel  beneath  him.  The  writing  was  that  of  his 
guru. 

He  remembered  the  guru's  skill  in  poisons  and 
antidotes.  And  like  a  flash  of  lightning  the 
remembrance  came  to  him  that  the  young  at- 
tendant, who  had  secretly  given  him  the  pack- 
age, was  betrothed  to  a  handmaid  of  the  palace ; 
that  the  handmaid  was  devoted  to  her  mistress, 
the  Princess  Devala. 


SI;?    Urrfctri    nf    tlf?    (gnba 

With  a  beating  heart  he  raised  the  goblet  of 
diamond-dust  to  his  lips.  The  right  hand  he 
held  beneath  it,  as  if  to  wipe  his  mouth  with 
the  cloth.  But  the  cloth  had  changed  places 
once  more  with  the  other  in  the  same  palm ; 
the  one  containing  the  powder  was  now  fore- 
most. 

Like  trickling  sand  the  hidden  powder  fell 
into  his  mouth.  The  liquid  ran  down  in  a  tor- 
rent after  it.  With  a  choking  gulp  he  drank  it 
to  the  dregs,  and  cast  the  goblet  aside. 

Whether  the  antidote  would  act  he  could 
scarcely  tell ;  he  earnestly  prayed  that  it  would. 
His  life  was  upon  the  knees  of  the  gods.  His 
loved  ones  were  risking  theirs  for  his.  If  die  he 
must,  he  would  die  keeping  their  trust. 

He  bent  his  head  upon  his  knees,  his  hands 
clutched  to  his  breast.  With  one  wild  jerk  he 
threw  up  his  hands  to  seize  the  other  goblet. 
But  now  one  cloth  was  in  his  hand ;  the  one  con- 
taining the  message  lay  hid  in  his  bosom. 

He  poured  the  fluid  down  his  throat,  his  lips 
twitching  at  each  gulp.  To  the  last  drop  he 
252 


Oil!?    Vtr&irt    nf    ily?    (S0&0 

drank ;  with  a  clatter  the  goblet  fell  at  his  feet. 
His  eyes  were  blazing  now;  then  suddenly  they 
dimmed.  Without  a  word  he  laid  himself  down 
flat  on  his  back,  his  head  pillowed  upon  his 
hands. 

Thus  he  lay  awhile  with  closed  eyes.  The 
breath  grew  harder,  sharper;  the  chest  heaved 
spasmodically.  Twice  he  made  to  cough,  and 
twice  the  sound  died  away  in  a  gurgle.  He 
became  restless.  He  turned  his  head  upon  the 
right  shoulder,  but  found  no  comfort  there.  He 
turned  it  to  the  left,  and  found  no  comfort 
there. 

His  feet  moved;  they  came  together,  but 
again  separated.  His  toes  curved  inwards  into 
the  soles ;  his  hands  slid  from  beneath  his  head, 
jerked  round  to  his  sides,  opened  and  closed, 
and  clawed  frantically  at  the  air.  He  was  seized 
with  cramps. 

A  quiver  ran  through  his  frame  from  head  to 

foot.     Suddenly  he  turned  on  his  side,  drew  up 

his  legs,  and  curled  down  his  head;  his  chin 

lay  almost  upon  his  knees.     A  moment  later  he 

253 


®ij?    Vtrbitt    nf    tiit    (gnfca 

shot  out  his  legs,  returned  to  his  back,  and  beat 
the  air  with  his  hands. 

"  This  is  cruelty,  not  justice,"  muttered  some- 
one beneath  his  breath.  A  while  later,  a  wizened 
old  councillor  gasped  out,  pointing  with  his 
finger  : 

"He  is  dying!" 

A  murmur  broke  upon  their  lips.  They  saw 
the  signs  of  hastening  death,  a  trembling  of  the 
limbs  from  the  knees  downwards,  and  beads  of 
sweat  upon  the  brow. 

Gradually  the  trembling  ceased.  One  faint 
beat — another — then  all  was  still. 

"He  is  dead!" 

And  a  strange  silence  came  upon  them  all,  for 
they  felt  dumbly  that  this  was  no  time  to  speak. 
They  glanced  piteously  upon  the  still  body,  and 
thanked  the  gods  that  this  was  no  work  of 
theirs. 

Then  a  sudden  cry  loosened  their  tongues. 

"But  see,  see!     The  sweat!" 

Truly,  the  beads  were  running  down  the  brow 
and  cheeks. 

254* 


Slje    Brrfciri    nf    i  1)  r    (6  0  b  B 

"  He  still  lives  !  " 

They  clutched  at  the  hope,  and  the  revulsion 
carried  them  far. 

"  The  fever  is  breaking !  " 

"He  may  live  yet!" 

"He  breathes!     He  moves!" 

Then,  without  a  word,  like  a  dead  man  return- 
ing to  life,  Nayaran  Lai  sat  up.  With  a  chok- 
ing cry  he  leapt  to  his  feet,  seized  the  tray  and 
goblets,  and  stood  before  the  dai's.  Drawing  a 
long  breath,  he  bent  his  head  and  blew  upon  the 
tray — finishing  in  a  sudden  gasp  that  seemed  to 
empty  his  heart. 

"  Behold  thy  poison,  O  Merciful  King ! " 

He  held  aloft  the  tray.  In  one  goblet  was  a 
white  powder ;  dry. 

It  was  the  diamond-dust. 

He  blew  anew,  and  held  up  the  tray. 

"  Behold  thy  poison,  O  Light  of  Justice ! " 

In  the  other  goblet  was  a  brown  powder ;  dry. 
It  was  the  datura. 

"See  that  they  be  full  measure,  O  Seat  of 
Wisdom ! " 

255 


SFtj*    Vtrftirt    0f    tljr    (Sn&a 

He  took  a  shell,  and  poured  the  diamond-dust 
into  it.  It  was  filled  to  the  brim.  He  emptied 
the  shell,  and  did  likewise  with  the  second 
poison. 

"See  that  they  kill,  O  Mighty  King!" 

He  pointed  to  the  two  covered  cages  that 
hung  from  the  roof,  one  on  either  side  of  the 
throne.  The  first  contained  a  myna,  the  second 
a  hiralal,  both  of  the  most  exquisite  plumage 
and  both  favourites  of  the  king. 

But  the  king  descended  from  his  throne,  and 
walked  to  the  courtyard  outside.  Around  the 
outer  wall  was  a  row  of  trees,  and  upon  the 
trees  many  crows. 

"  Try  them,"  said  the  king. 

They  fetched  Narayan  a  small  guava.  Cut- 
ting it  in  halves,  he  dipped  one  half  in  the  dia- 
mond-dust so  that  a  tenth  of  it  remained  upon 
it,  and  cast  it  under  a  tree.  The  other  half  he 
dipped  in  the  datura,  and  cast  it  under  another 
tree. 

A  dozen  crows  came  down,  fighting  for  the 
booty.  The  winners  seized  the  plunder,  flew 
256 


back  to  the  trees,  and  ate  the  guava.  Five  min- 
utes after,  fluttering  their  wings,  they  dropped 
to  the  ground,  fluttered  again — then  lay  still. 

"  Is  it  well,  my  Master?  "  asked  Narayan  Lai. 

And  the  king  answered :    "  It  is  well." 

He  turned  to  the  mahout  who  still  sat  upon 
the  elephant.  "  Take  away  the  beast.  There  is 
no  traitor  found  to-day.  The  treason  shall  be 
proved  at  the  next  trial !  " 

He  little  realised  in  what  wondrous  manner 
his  words  were  destined  to  be  fulfilled  to  the 
very  letter  at  Narayan  Lai's  next  and  last  trial ! 

"And  how  thinkest  thou  the  poisons  spared 
the  life  of  Narayan  Lai,"  asked  the  Great  King 
of  the  Story-  teller,  "  and  how  blew  he  them  back 
out  of  his  mouth,  dry  and  separated  from  the 
water  ?  " 

And  the  Story-teller  bowed  his  head,  and 
murmured  that  it  was  the  prayers  of  his  loved 
ones  that  saved  the  life  of  Narayan  Lai,  and 
helped  him  in  the  feat. 

But,  O  best  beloved,  at  least  some  of  those 
257 


Sff*    lUrfciri    of    itje    (Snfca 

who  witnessed  the  feat  believed  otherwise.  I, 
the  faithful  chronicler  of  the  Great  King,  after- 
wards heard  from  the  Story-teller  of  their  foul 
calumnies.  For  on  the  night  of  the  trial  the 
usual  crowd  of  knaves  came  to  the  low  den  at  the 
outskirts  of  the  city  and  discussed  Narayan 
LaPs  feats  with  evil  tongues.  First,  the  feat  of 
turning  the  piece  of  leather  into  a  live  serpent. 
"  Easy  enough ! "  said  the  ex-scribe,  he  that 
was  the  sage  amongst  this  vile  crew.  "  It  is  the 
usual  practice  of  an  expert  juggler  to  lead  up 
to  his  best  feat  gradually.  Thus  to  gain  the 
confidence  of  his  spectators  from  the  start,  he 
performs  some  impromptu  feat,  which,  how- 
ever trivial,  is  likely  to  excite  wonder  by  its  very 
spontaneity.  To  do  this,  it  is  his  most  usual 
practice  to  produce  suddenly  some  live  creature 
from  the  person  of  one  of  the  spectators — as  a 
rule  the  most  forward  or  aggressive  one  among 
them;  and  the  more  startling  and  repugnant 
the  creature  (for  instance,  a  snake,  a  frog,  a 
lizard)  the  greater  is  the  merriment  of  the  other 
spectators,  and  hence  the  greater  the  general 
258 


ST  If  ?    Uer&trt    0  f    tfyt    <g  0  b  a 

success  of  the  feat.  Thus  it  is  the  juggler's 
custom  to  carry  some  such  creature  about  him 
(for  instance,  under  his  waistband),  though  in 
the  present  case  it  was  fated  to  fulfil  a  sterner 
purpose  than  to  cause  merriment." 

"  But  how  came  Narayan  Lai  to  possess  the 
serpent,"  objected  the  man  that  had  his  nose  slit 
open  with  a  lancet,  "  after  being  so  long  in  cap- 
tivity?" 

The  ex-scribe  smiled  in  superior  wisdom. 
"  His  friends  !  The  guru  and  the  brethren  who 
had  access  to  him  daily !  And  with  what  other 
contrivances  they  have  furnished  him,  for  pos- 
sible future  trials,  none  can  tell." 

"  But  how  could  he  carry  the  live  serpent 
safely  about  his  person?  Methinks  it  might 
have  crawled  out  at  any  moment,  or  even  have 
bitten  him  to  death." 

"  O  simple  one ! "  cried  the  scribe  in  derision, 
"  knowest  nothing  of  narcotics  that  would  re- 
duce a  serpent  to  sleep,  to  lethargy,  or  to  com- 
plete coma  for  twenty  long  hours?  And  after 
the  clever  substitution  of  the  serpent  for  the 
259 


Sly?    Uerfciri    nf    Ifj?    (Sofca 

leather,  knowest  not  that  the  subsequent  wrig- 
gling, to  and  fro,  backwards  and  forwards, 
would  remove  the  comatose  effects,  and  grad- 
ually awaken  the  serpent  to  full  activity?" 

Then  all  cried  out  in  unison,  "  Now  tell  us  of 
the  second  feat — how  the  juggler  drank  the 
poisons,  and  brought  them  back  out  of  his 
mouth,  dry ! " 

The  sage  pulled  at  his  hookah  in  silence 
awhile,  cleared  his  throat,  and  gave  forth  this 
fragment  of  wisdom: 

"  To  every  poison  there  is  an  antidote — if 
we  could  only  find  it.  But  strange  as  it  may 
seem,  the  antidote  to  two  poisons  administered 
together  is  sometimes  easier  to  find  than  the 
antidote  to  each  separately ;  for  the  two  poisons 
may  to  some  extent  neutralise  each  other.  Now, 
if  a  third  substance  could  be  found  that  would 
complete  this  neutralisation,  then  the  three 
taken  together  would  be  quite  harmless  to  kill — 
though  indeed  their  nervous  effects  might  still 
remain,  such  as  cramp  and  heavy  sweat,  and 
subsequently  temporary  weakness  and  partial 
£60 


2Ilj?    Urr&tri    nf    tl?e    <g0&0 

paralysis.  This  third  substance — a  light  oleag- 
inous stone  found  only  in  the  deserts  of  Raj- 
putana,  which,  when  pulverised  into  fine  pow- 
der, had  the  peculiar  property  of  chemically 
combining  with  diamond-dust  and  datura,  and 
thus  forming  in  union  with  them  a  new  and 
innocuous  substance — either  the  guru  or  some 
other  friend  of  the  juggler  had  discovered,  and 
managed  to  convey  to  him  secretly." 

But  a  mocking  voice  answered  the  sage: 
"  But  how  did  he  bring  back  the  powders  separ- 
ately and  dry — and  then  prove  by  the  death  of 
the  crows  that  the  poisons  were  not  innocuous? 
Tell  us  that,  O  man  of  much  wisdom!" 

The  sage  gave  back  scorn  for  scorn.  "  Know- 
est  not,  O  foolish  one,  that  an  expert  juggler 
is  trained  from  his  earliest  childhood  to  carry 
small  objects  in  his  throat,  such  as  a  silver  coin? 
In  fact,  when  the  future  juggler  is  four  or  five 
years  of  age,  the  trainer  takes  a  small  coin, 
bores  a  hole  at  the  rim,  ties  a  silk  thread  to  it, 
and  holding  one  end  of  the  thread  makes  the 
child  swallow  the  coin — only  as  far  as  the 
261 


®lj*    Uer&tri    nf    tlf?    <S0t>0 

throat.  There  he  keeps  the  coin  for  only  five 
seconds;  thus  every  day  for  twelve  months. 
Then  gradually  he  increases  the  duration,  also 
chooses  a  successively  larger  coin  as  the  child 
grows  up — till  after  fifteen  years,  when  the  child 
is  grown  to  be  a  man,  a  natural  cavity  has  been 
formed  in  the  throat.  In  this,  on  either  side  of 
the  root  of  the  tongue,  the  juggler  can  now 
carry  two  thin  silver  capsules,  and  operate  on 
them  by  an  adroit  movement  of  the  tongue. 

"  Now,  when  the  king  had  sealed  up  the  two 
packages  of  poisons,  some  friend  of  the  juggler 
must  have  learnt  of  that  fact  from  the  royal 
alchemist,  and  obtained  from  him  a  similar 
supply  of  the  same  poisons.  These,  hidden  in 
the  silver  capsules,  he  had  contrived  to  convey 
to  the  juggler  in  his  prison.  Thus,  O  foolish 
one,"  concluded  the  scribe,  "  it  was  not  the  iden- 
tical poisons  he  had  drunk  in  liquid  form  which 
Narayan  Lai  brought  out  of  his  mouth,  dry.  It 
was  the  supply  in  the  hidden  capsules ! "  And 
the  sage  closed  his  lips  upon  the  neglected 
hookah,  and  refused  to  speak  again. 
262 


®t(e    Vtrftirt    nf    t\\*    (Sails 

But,  O  best  beloved,  the  calumnies  of  such  a 
vile  crew  as  this  are  indeed  endless.  They  would, 
if  they  could,  explain  away  the  very  wonders  of 
nature — of  the  gigantic  tree  that  grows  from  the 
tiny  seed,  the  very  sun,  moon  and  stars — then 
how  glibly  the  marvels  of  man !  Verily,  to  them 
nothing  is  sacred  in  heaven  and  earth  and  the 
waters  beneath.  They  would  explain  all  things 
away  in  the  name  of  science !  Faugh !  they  make 
me  sick! 

And,  O  beloved,  at  the  next  trial  could  any 
mortal  man  explain  away  the  feat?  Verily  it 
was  beyond  human  anticipation,  beyond  the 
power  of  twice  forty  thousand  friends — if 
indeed  all  that  witnessed  it  were  friends — to  suc- 
cour Narayan  Lai  in  that  supreme  crisis,  that 
stupendous  conflict.  For,  seeing  that  the 
chances  were  slipping  by,  Narayan  LaPs  master 
resolved  in  the  last  trial  to  make  him  face  such 
a  peril  as  no  man  had  escaped  before  or  since. 


263 


THE    VERDICT     OF     PARAMESHWAR 

'NOW,  O  Son  of  Heaven,  that  when 
doubt  like  a  cankerworm  eats  into 
the  human  heart  each  attempt  to 
remove  the  doubt  serves  but  to  nerve 
it  to  new  strength  in  its  hold;  each  attempt  to 
prove  that  it  is  false  serves  but  to  reveal  new 
reasons  to  prove  that  it  is  true.  Thus  was  it 
in  the  heart  of  Narayan  Lai's  master.  Five 
times  had  he  wrestled  with  and  driven  back  the 
tempter  at  his  ear,  trying  to  believe  that  Nara- 
yan Lai  was  innocent ;  and  five  times  the  tempter 
had  returned,  bringing  seven  more  tempters 
with  him  to  show  that  Narayan  Lai  was  guilty. 
Thus,  in  this  the  last  trial,  he  resolved  to  put 
Narayan  Lai  to  such  a  test  as  would  either 
cause  his  certain  death,  or  prove  his  innocence 
beyond  doubt.  If  Parameshwar  had  accepted 
264 


Sij?    Beriirt    nf    tlj*    (gnfca 

the  original  terms  of  the  ordeal,  He  would  ful- 
fil them  in  their  entirety;  would  snatch  back 
Narayan  Lai  from  the  jaws  of  death,  even  in 
the  last  hour,  if  he  were  truly  innocent  of  guilt. 
Thus  he  resolved  to  make  the  test  such  that  no 
human  aid  could  succour  him.  Divine  aid  could, 
if  it  would;  that  would  be  the  manifestation 
of  Parameshwar.  He  would  accept  then  that 
manifestation. 

Forsooth  long  afterwards  men  said  that  it 
was  tempting  fate;  that  it  was  demanding  a 
sign  from  Parameshwar.  But  as  against  this, 
sages  had  answered  that  those  who  had  long 
suffered  and  had  submitted  themselves  to  the 
Eternal  design,  had  the  right  to  such  a  sign  in 
the  crisis  of  their  life.  And  this  was,  indeed,  the 
crisis  in  the  king's  own  life — not  merely  that  of 
Narayan  Lai. 

For  if  the  youth  suffered  death  in  this  trial 
the  king's  own  life  would  be  wrecked  for  ever. 
He  loved  his  daughter  dearly,  but  not  more 
dearly  than  he  loved  honour.  The  death  of  the 
youth  would  imply  the  death  of  the  princess — 
265 


Brriirt    0f    tlj?    (Soba 

and  his  own  everlasting  despair.  Thus  indeed 
was  this  the  crisis  in  each  of  three  lives,  not 
merely  of  one.  Then  when  was  there  a  greater 
right  to  a  sign,  if  not  now? 

By  royal  proclamation  all  men  were  bidden  to 
come  to  the  ancient  amphitheatre  that  lay  out- 
side the  city;  why,  it  was  not  revealed  to  any; 
but  all  guessed  that  it  was  to  witness  Narayan 
Lai's  death — or  triumph. 

Three  hundred  cubits  north  of  the  city  there 
arose  a  line  of  hills,  licking  the  blue  sky  with  a 
thousand  tongues  of  sal  and  toon ;  between  the 
foot  of  the  hills  and  the  city  wall  lay  the  amphi- 
theatre. 

It  was  a  circular  structure,  a  hundred  and 
fifty  cubits  across.  The  outer  wall  was  crum- 
bling to  dust.  Well  it  might.  Five-and-twenty 
centuries  ago  it  had  first  witnessed  the  battles 
of  the  Ramayana  and  Mahabharata  fought 
within  it  with  sword  and  lance,  even  to  the  spill- 
ing of  blood  ;*  and  in  these  latter  days  had  wit- 

1  Some  of  the  episodes  from  the  great  national  epics  of 
India  were  once  re-enacted  with  vivid  realism. 

266 


Srtf?    TJerbirt    nf    tlf?    (Soba 

nessed  scenes  that  were  less  heroic  but  more  sen- 
sational. 

Within  the  circular  wall  arose  tier  upon  tier 
of  raised  seats  of  the  purest  Nerbudda  marble; 
above  them  seats  of  Agra  sandstone.  The 
arena,  a  level  sandy  space  eighty  cubits  across, 
lay  beneath,  surrounded  by  a  stout  wall  that 
rose  up  ten  cubits  high,  even  to  the  base  of  the 
lowermost  tier.  At  every  dozen  paces  the  wall 
was  pierced  for  a  tunnel,  iron-gated  at  the 
entrance.  Some  were  four  cubits  high,  some 
eight.  Within  the  dark  caverns  that  lay  beyond 
the  iron  bars,  timorous  men  had  whispered  with 
bated  breath  that  they  had  seen  crouching  forms 
that  had  blinked  and  glared  at  them  with  fear- 
ful eyes. 

On  the  day  of  the  trial  twice  ten  thousand 
men  came  to  the  amphitheatre,  the  aristocracy 
and  gentry  filling  the  marble  seats,  the  middle 
classes  finding  room  upon  the  sandstone.  But 
of  the  vulgar  multitude  twice  that  number 
clambered  up  the  hillside  opposite,  and  there  sat 
upon  the  grass,  eating  cold  chappaties,  and 
267 


SFtje    Uerfcirt    0f    ttyt    (Snfca 

laughing  and  chatting  as  if  they  had  come  to 
see  a  fine  tamasha,  not  the  death  of  a  living  man. 
They  were  bidden  to  come  an  hour  before  sun- 
set ;  but  the  sun  was  scarce  past  the  zenith  when 
the  hillside  was  a  shimmering  mass  of  red  and 
purple,  yellow  and  orange,  against  the  green. 
Thrice  twenty  thousand  men  had  come  to  make 
a  holiday. 

There  were  strange  scenes  that  day  in  the 
city.  A  ceaseless  stream  of  men  filled  the  streets 
and  by-lanes,  all  seeking  the  amphitheatre  on 
the  hills.  Here  and  there  little  groups  of  men 
stood  by  street  corners,  awaiting  the  arrival  of 
friends.  They  spoke  in  low  whispers ;  and  in 
their  eyes  there  was  a  strange  gleam,  such  as  in 
the  eyes  of  those  that  had  suddenly  seen  light  in 
dark  places. 

"  Brothers,  this  morn  I  was  bathing  in  the 
sacred  Ganges  an  hour  before  sunrise " 

"  A  very  meritorious  deed ! "  sneered  a  passer- 
by, pausing  awhile  to  let  the  sneer  rankle. 

" And  even  as  the  morning  star  was  pal- 
ing in  the  east,  I  saw " 

268 


©tje    Herfciri    af    tl??    (gn&a 

"  What  sawest  thou,  O  Seer?  "  It  was  a  sud- 
den laugh  from  the  back;  for  the  little  group 
had  now  swelled  into  a  throng. 

" A  ball  of  light  falling  from  heaven  far 

away  on  the  west,"  finished  the  speaker,  with  a 
catch  in  his  breath.  He  was  a  timorous  man, 
and  the  terror  in  his  voice  matched  the  terror  in 
his  eye. 

There  was  an  instant  hush.  Signs  in  the 
heavens  were  the  most  solemn  of  portents. 

"And  then,  O  brother?" 

"  It  came  swiftly  nearer  the  earth  in  a  line  of 
white  light;  then  when  it  stood  over  the  royal 
palace,  it  suddenly  turned  blood-red,  and  burst 
into  ten  thousand  fragments.  Yet,  O  brothers, 
I  heard  no  sound!" 

"  Ay,  but  a  moment  later  a  gentle  shower  of 
rain  fell,  and  blotted  out  the  red  sparks  from  the 
sky."  It  was  a  meek-faced  Vishnuvite  that  gave 
this  hope. 

Then  the  passer-by  that  had  stopped  to  sneer, 
laughed  aloud  in  his  superior  wisdom.  "  O 
foolish  brothers !  It  was  but  a  shooting-star.  It 


®ly*    Uerbiri    nf    tlje    (gafca 

burst,  not  over  the  royal  palace,  but  three  kos 
[six  miles]  beyond,  and  a  full  kos  from  the 
earth;  thus  no  sound  was  heard.  And  the 
rain  came  because  of  the  disturbance  in  the 
clouds." 

But  a  snow-bearded  oracle  that  had  heard 
all  these  things,  rebuked  him,  saying: 

"  Thou  dost  see  only  with  the  eye  of  the  body. 
Canst  not  read. also  with  the  eye  of  the  soul? 
Canst  not  hear  the  voice  of  the  Deity  in  the 
rolling  thunder,  and  read  His  handwriting  in 
the  flashing  lightning  ?  " 

Then  amid  the  hushed  silence,  a  small  voice 
whispered : 

"  Read  to  us  this  message,  O  man  of  wis- 
dom!" 

"It  means  that  a  great  wrong  will  be  done 
this  day ;  but,  like  a  gentle  shower  of  rain,  mercy 
will  come  to  right  the  wrong.  I  have  spoken. 
Peace  be  with  you." 

Saying  this,  he  departed.  But  even  in  that 
moment  they  had  recognised  him.  For  it  was 
he  that  on  the  day  of  the  first  trial  had  spoken 
270 


£lje    BerMrt    nf    t  It  r    (5  o  b  0 

of  a  little  infant  found  floating  in  a  wicker 
basket  on  the  bosom  of  the  Ganges. 

But  ere  this  new  hope  could  take  root  in  their 
hearts,  other  men  came  with  omens  of  woe. 

"  Brothers,  know  you  the  big  tigress  in  the 
royal  menagerie  that  has  given  birth  to  two 
cubs?  This  morn  she  went  mad,  and  killed  and 
ate  her  own  progeny ;  then  suddenly  realising 
her  deed,  she  grew  madder  still,  and  flung  her- 
self upon  the  iron  bars  in  the  frenzy  of  de- 
spair. 

"  Yea,  brothers,"  added  another,  "  seeing  the 
people  beyond,  she  tore  at  the  bars  with  her 
fangs  to  get  at  them.  And,  methinks,  had  not 
the  keepers  beat  her  back  from  the  outside  with 
red-hot  irons,  she  had  killed  herself  in  her 
rage." 

Then  others,  more  fanciful  or  more  observant, 
took  up  the  tale  of  woe  with  many  embel- 
lishments. 

"A  sweet-voiced  woman,  singing  behind 
pinjra  lattice  with  the  esthraj's  dulcet  harmony 
had  suddenly  hushed  her  voice,  clung  to  her  lord 
271 


SJIfe    Uer&irt    nf    llf?    (Snba 

as  if  stricken  with  blindness,  and  lain  in  his  arms 
cowering  with  fear.  ..." 

"  There  is  sorrow  in  the  palace,  O  brothers. 
Thrice  the  king  hath  awakened  from  his  sleep 
with  a  start,  crying  out :  *  Begone,  tempter ! ' 
He  seemed  to  be  wrestling  with  some  evil  spirit 
that  tormented  him." 

And  yet  another  came,  and  spoke  of  a  pohari 
woman  that  had  lost  her  son  on  his  wedding-day, 
and  had  herself  fallen  dead  in  grief,  crying  out 
with  her  last  breath  that  she  would  haunt  the 
earth  till  she  found  her  son — at  which  portent 
all  that  heard  marvelled;  for  the  soul  of  a 
pdhari  woman  had  no  love,  and  was  cruel  and 
pitiless — even  like  unto  the  soul  of  the  tigress 
that  had  killed  her  own  progeny. 

"  A  terrible  day !     A  day  of  wrath ! " 

Saying  this,  the  crowd  dispersed — and  went 
forth  to  the  hillside  to  make  holiday. 

And  now  all  eyes  were  upon  the  ivory  throne. 
At  the  southern  diameter  of  the  arena,  and 
facing  the  hills,  was  a  tall  archway,  seven  cubits 


ollje    UerMrf    of    t  Ij  e    (g  0  b  a 

wide  and  twice  as  high.  It  was  also  protected 
by  an  iron-barred  gate  that  could  be  raised  or 
lowered  like  a  portcullis.  The  archway  reached 
beyond  the  city  wall,  even  to  the  adj  oining  court 
of  the  royal  palace. 

And  above  the  dome  of  the  gallery,  and  upon 
a  marble  dais,  was  the  ivory  throne,  inlaid  with 
gold,  and  incrusted  at  the  arms  and  head  with 
diamonds,  rubies,  and  sapphires.  Over  it  there 
floated  in  the  soft  breeze  a  purple  canopy  of 
Dacca's  loveliest  brocade,  embroidered  with  ten 
thousand  stars  and  moons  of  alternate  gold 
and  silver. 

Seeing  this  glory  and  pomp,  all  there  won- 
dered. Instinctively  they  felt  that  there  was 
some  hidden  purpose  in  the  heart  of  the  king 
to  make  this  scene  linger  in  their  memory  for 
ages  to  come ;  why,  they  could  not  guess. 

And  the  wonder  grew  all  the  greater  when 
beside  the  throne,  but  a  little  below  it,  they 
caught  a  glimpse  of  a  low  divan  beneath  a  pile 
of  shawls,  and  upon  them  a  dagger,  a  goblet, 
and  a  silken  cord.  What  they  signified  none 
273 


could  tell;  but  some,  shaking  their  heads  dubi- 
ously, and  shaking  the  dust  off  their  feet, 
departed  from  the  amphitheatre,  muttering  that 
they  approved  not  of  such  unbending  stern- 
ness. 

And  then  the  heavy  curtains  behind  the  dai's 
parted,  and  a  tall  figure  in  blue  and  scarlet 
stepped  forth,  and  raising  a  silver  trumpet  to 
his  lips  sent  forth  a  loud  blast  to  the  north. 
From  the  north  the  answer  came,  for  suddenly 
another  trumpeter  had  appeared  across  the 
amphitheatre.  Then  another  from  the  east,  and 
another  from  the  west. 

Whilst  yet  the  echoes  were  mingling  together 
among  the  hills,  the  curtains  behind  the  dais 
were  flung  aside,  revealing  two  rows  of  stalwart 
men  that  held  their  swords  aloft  to  form  an  arch. 
Then  from  beneath  it  there  appeared  the  king. 
He  was  robed  in  royal  kincob,  and  crowned  with 
a  diamond  aigrette  upon  his  turban. 

Erect  even  in  age,  he  walked  to  the  throne 
with  measured  tread;  then  even  as  he  sat  upon 
it,  he  raised  his  right  hand. 
274 


In  almost  instant  response  a  dull  grating 
sound  was  heard.  Slowly  the  iron  gate  in  the 
archway  lifted,  and  from  there  came  forth  two 
men,  with  one  other  between  them.  They  walked 
to  the  arena,  turned  and  bowed  to  the  king. 
Then  without  a  word  they  led  their  prisoner  to 
the  centre  of  the  arena  to  a  stake  driven  into 
the  sand.  There  it  had  stood  unnoticed  so  long, 
scarce  large  enough  at  that  distance  to  merit 
attention.  Making  him  face  the  king,  they 
bound  the  prisoner  to  the  stake  with  a  stout 
cord,  winding  it  first  around  each  ankle,  then 
upwards  around  the  knees,  the  thighs,  the  waist, 
the  breast,  the  arms,  even  up  to  the  neck.  Thus 
they  left  him,  and  departed  from  the  arena. 

"  Narayan  Lai,  what  is  written  upon  thy 
brow  from  thy  birth  will  be  fulfilled  to  the  very 
letter,  heaven  and  earth  notwithstanding.  If  it 
be  death,  then  let  it  be  death.  A  brave  man 
should  know  how  to  die.  Hast  thou  aught  to 
say?  "  And  there  was  not  a  tremor  in  the  voice 
of  the  king  as  he  said  this. 

But  for  an  answer  the  prisoner  glanced 
275 


SUf?    Vtr&irt    nf    tlje    (ga&a 

upwards,  and  gazed  upon  the  king — rather  at 
some  vision  beyond  the  throne  that  he  saw  in  the 
eye  of  the  mind,  not  of  the  body.  Yes,  what 
was  written  upon  his  brow  from  his  very  birth! 
Was  it  for  this  that  he  was  born — a  traitor's 
death?  Or,  to  sit  upon  a  throne? 

And  then  in  his  inmost  heart  there  arose 
another  yearning.  For  six  long  months  his  eyes 
had  not  beheld  that  vision  of  beauty  which  was 
truly  the  sole  cause,  the  sole  price,  of  his  death. 
Then  in  this  hour  of  final  dereliction  would  he  be 
denied  its  last  comfort?  Would  his  glazing 
eyes,  as  he  yielded  up  his  soul,  be  denied  one 
glance  of  pity  from  her  eyes?  One  little  word 
of  love,  one  single  teardrop? 

Then  in  that  hour  his  manhood  forsook  him. 

"Justice!  Justice,  O  King!  Give  me  jus- 
tice ! "  It  was  a  shriek  of  agony  that  broke 
from  his  lips.  For  a  strong  man,  a  brave  man, 
losing  his  manhood  is  a  terrible  thing,  and  not 
good  to  see  or  hear  or  dream  of. 

But  the  stern  level  voice  of  the  king  answered 
him. 

276 


"What  is  written  is  written.  Cry  justice  to 
Him  that  made  thee,  and  not  to  me." 

Then,  whilst  yet  these  words  were  undried 
upon  his  lips,  there  came  a  strange  softness  into 
his  eyes ;  and  when  he  spoke  again  his  voice  was 
hoarse  and  husky. 

"  Narayan  Lai,  to  see  thee  die  I  desire  much ; 
but  to  see  thee  live — and  triumph — I  desire  more. 
Pray  that  Parameshwar  save  thee."  And  there 
was  a  quiver  in  his  voice  that  none  but  Narayan 
Lai  could  understand.  For  in  that  moment  it 
was  the  father  that  spoke,  not  the  king. 

And  now  a  sudden  silence  fell  upon  that  vast 
multitude.  Twice  forty  thousand  men  lost  their 
tongues,  and  gazed  before  them  like  dazed 
children. 

A  heavy,  rumbling  sound  was  heard,  and  a 
while  later  a  dozen  men  appeared  in  the  gallery, 
dragging  by  a  hawser  what  seemed  to  be  a  car 
resting  on  four  broad  wheels,  each  scarce  a 
foot  off  the  ground.  The  car  was  about  ten 
cubits  long,  six  wide,  and  seven  high.  What  it 
contained  none  could  tell;  for  it  was  covered 
277 


Sff*    JUriiri    0f    tlje    (gn&a 

over  with  a  straw  matting.  But  from  the  sound 
it  made  all  guessed  that  there  was  much  iron 
about  its  make;  yet  not  all  iron. 

They  dragged  the  car  and  placed  it  before 
Narayan  Lai,  just  two  cubits  away.  Without  a 
word  they  whipped  off  its  straw  covering,  and, 
stepping  aside,  stood  at  attention. 

And  then  there  arose  a  cry  of  horror  from  a 
thousand  lips ;  a  thousand  moans  of  pity 
were  wrung  out  of  a  thousand  hearts;  a  thou- 
sand  

But  the  cold  relentless  voice  of  the  king 
hushed  them  all. 

"  Narayan  Lai,  thou  shalt  be  placed  at  the 
mercy  of  thy  enemy;  yet  not  altogether  within 
its  reach.  If  within  the  hour,  ere  the  sun  goes 
down,  it  can  reach  thee,  then  thy  death  will  be 
the  just  reward  of  thy  guilt.  But  within  the 
hour  Parameshwar  may  save  thee — if  He  so  will. 
I  have  spoken." 

Verily,  Parameshwar  alone  could  save  him. 
For  within  the  iron-barred  cage  was  the  self- 
same tigress  that  had  killed  her  own  progeny, 
278 


and  had  sought  to  kill  and  kill  and  kill  all  men. 
An  enormous  beast,  seven  cubits  long,  such  as 
the  jungles  yield  but  once  in  a  generation. 

Without  a  word  the  dozen  guards  stepped  up 
to  the  cage,  six  on  either  side,  and  placing  their 
hands  upon  the  edges,  drew  off  the  iron  grat- 
ings ;  for  verily  the  iron  bars  were  but  an  outer 
coating.  The  cage  itself  was  of  pliable  bam- 
boo, bound  at  the  joints  with  Malacca  cane. 

It  was  but  a  slender  hedge  that  stood  between 
Narayan  Lai  and  his  savage  foe. 

And  now,  the  dozen  guards  having  departed 
and  lowered  the  portcullis  behind  them,  the  two 
were  left  face  to  face. 

For  a  moment  the  tigress  hesitated.  Accus- 
tomed to  dwell  within  bars,  she  had  failed  to 
notice  any  change  in  their  nature ;  and  the  sight 
of  many  men  passing  and  repassing  before  her 
had  been  scarce  worth  attention. 

But  gradually  it  began  to  dawn  upon  her  that 
there  was  now  something  strange  and  unwonted 
before  her;  for  the  more  savage  a  beast  is,  the 
greater  is  its  curiosity  or  its  suspicion. 
279 


©Ij*    Her&irt    nf    iff?    <£0ba 

She  saw  a  solitary  man  standing  motionless 
before  her  cage ;  and  the  cage  itself  was  not 
like  unto  her  usual  dwelling-place.  Its  walls 
were  of  the  colour  of  her  own  body,  and  seemed 
to  be  like  unto  things  she  vaguely  remembered 
she  had  seen  in  the  jungle  in  the  days  of  free- 
dom. 

She  rose  up,  stepped  to  the  front  of  the  cage, 
stood  up  on  her  hind  legs,  and  scrutinised  her 
victim.  Suddenly  she  thrust  out  her  right  paw 
between  the  bamboo  bars.  It  reached  to  within 
a  span  of  Narayan  Lai's  face,  the  bars  yielding 
to  her  efforts.  A  second  thrust,  a  third,  a 
fourth.  The  cage  creaked  and  groaned ;  the 
bamboos  bent  and  curved  outwards — then  as 
quickly  sprang  back  to  their  original  shape. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  dull  grinding  sound. 
She  snapped  at  a  vertical  bamboo  with  her 
fangs,  tore  at  it,  chewed  it,  tugged  it — 
Snap! 

It  was  a  gaping  space  a  foot  square. 

Without  thought  she  plunged  her  head  at  it. 
One  fierce  push — her  hind  legs  upon  the  floor, 
280 


Sly?    Uer&trt    nf    ilj?    (g 

her  back  arched  up  above  them — and  half  the 
head  was  out.  And  then — and  then 

But  the  pliable  bamboos  sprang  back  in  their 
elasticity.  The  top  end  of  the  broken  rod 
pressed  against  her  head,  at  the  most  sensitive 
part.  The  bottom  end  pressed  upwards  between 
her  chin  and  throat — also  an  intensely  sensitive 
part. 

Maddened  with  rage,  and  somehow  seeking  to 
vent  it  upon  the  only  living  creature  before  her, 
she  strove  to  thrust  out  her  neck  from  between 
the  shoulders.  An  inch,  two  inches,  three  inches 
— and  the  projecting  bamboo  grazed  along 
three  inches  of  her  head.  She  twisted  her  neck 
round,  shot  out  her  head  recklessly — and  the 
jagged  end  of  the  lower  bamboo  bit  her  throat 
like  a  hundred  teeth.  Her  jaws  opened  wide, 
and  snapped  fiercely  at  the  air ;  but  for  the  inter- 
vening span  she  had  crunched  her  victim's  head 
in  that  snap. 

And  all  the  while  Narayan  Lai  stood  before 
her,  powerless  to  recede  an  inch.  He  felt  a 
spasm  at  his  heart ;  something  arose  in  his 
281 


®lj?    Btrftirt    nf    tlf?    (Safca 

throat,  and  seemed  to  shut  out  the  breath  of  life ; 
something  arose  as  a  mist  before  his  eyes,  envel- 
oping and  magnifying  the  terror  they  beheld. 

He  saw  those  frightful  fangs,  those  sawing 
jaws  keeping  hideous  time  with  the  yellow  blink- 
ing eyes;  in  his  dulled  ear  he  heard  the  sound 
of  creaking  bamboo  and  bursting  cane — and 
thought  it  to  be  the  sound  of  crunching  bones 
and  tearing  flesh.  His  bones,  his  flesh. 

Inch  by  inch  he  saw  that  cruel  face  come 
nearer  and  nearer.  He  felt  her  horrible  breath 
upon  his  brow,  his  cheeks,  his  lips — he  felt  that 
a  while  later  her  enormous  jaws  would  engulf 
his  head  in  a  single  bite.  Into  that  moment  the 
agony  of  a  thousand  years  was  encompassed, 
for  he  stood  powerless  to  move  a  single  finger 
to  save  his  life !  Oh,  if  he  were  but  free  to  do 
battle  for  that  life !  Then  he  would  sell  his  life 
dearly;  would  fight  with  his  bare  hands  where 
fire  and  sword  might  have  availed  naught. 

And  now  the  sweat  of  death  stood  in  beads 
over  his  brow ;  the  first  shock  of  terror  quaked 
his  limbs  and  twitched  his  face.  For  the  bravest 
282 


®Ije    Uerfciri    cf    tl?*    (Safca 

man  might  quail  to  meet  such  a  death,  to  yield 
up  his  life  in  such  impotence.  He  closed  his 
eyes  in  that  first  shock  of  terror.  .  .  . 

But  a  moment  after  something  whispered  in 
his  ear,  and  reminded  him  of  the  decree  of  fate ; 
reminded  him  that  the  will  of  Parameshwar 
would  be  done,  kings  and  potentates  notwith- 
standing; reminded  him  also  that  twice  forty 
thousand  men  were  gazing  upon  his  dying 
moments.  In  that  thought  his  manhood  was 
given  back  to  him.  If  die  he  must,  he  would 
stare  death  in  the  face  unmoved. 

He  opened  his  eyes  and  saw  the  tigress  now 
half  a  span  before  him;  from  the  far  distance 
they  seemed  to  be  face  upon  face — like  two  long- 
parted  lovers  kissing  each  other.  To  him  the 
kiss  would  come  in  but  a  moment.  And  in  that 
kiss  he  would  lose,  not  his  heart,  but  his  head; 
for  the  tigress  would  embrace  his  whole  head  in 
that  kiss. 

What  though  he  felt  the  seconds  grow  into 
hours,  and  the  minutes  into  years  ?  All  too  soon 
the  embrace  would  come.  Was  he  awaiting  his 
283 


3  lj  ?    Herfctrt    0  f    1 1}  ?    <§  0  &  0 

bride?  Behold,  even  now  his  bride  was  opening 
her  lips  to  close  upon  his  own. 

What  though  he  felt  the  fascination  of  her 
eyes,  felt  their  terrible  beauty  overpower  him 
and  engulf  his  senses  in  coming  torpor?  Behold, 
it  was  the  ecstacy  of  the  bridegroom  that  felt 
the  sweet  breath  of  his  beloved  upon  his  face. 

What  though  he  heard  in  his  swooning  ears 
the  sound  of  creaking,  crackling — snapping — 
bursting  reeds?  In  that  moment  he  heard  the 
sweet  twinkling  of  jewels  upon  his  bride's  arms, 
and  upon  her  brow  and  bosom.  ... 

And  then  there  arose  a  cry  of  agony  that 
thrilled  through  twice  forty  thousand  hearts. 
For  it  came,  not  from  the  dying  man,  but  from 
his  judge!  His  king,  his  master. 

With  tottering  feet  he  stood  up  before  his 
throne — striving  to  point  one  trembling  hand 
at  something  that  he  saw  before  him.  And  then, 
ere  his  parched  lips  could  find  utterance,  all 
there  saw — and  felt — and  realised. 

It  seemed  to  be  a  bundle  of  white  that  dropped 
from  the  wall  into  the  arena  below.  It  lay  still 
284 


a  moment  as  it  reached  the  sand;  then  casting 
off  the  white  cloak,  it  arose  and  ran  swiftly 
towards  the  cage — a  slender  form  draped  in 
mauve  and  purple !  It  held  a  small  glittering 
thing  above  its  head.  A  Dakheen  dagger. 

She  cut  frantically  at  the  cords  that  bound 
Narayan  Lai — and  the  coils  spun  round  and 
round,  and  released  him  from  the  stake. 

"Devala!" 

"My  love." 

Like  a  drunken  man  he  reeled  aside — then 
grasped  the  post  to  steady  himself.  Verily,  it 
was  his  bride  that  had  come  to  him.  It  was  her 
breath  that  he  felt  upon  his  face — his  brow,  his 
cheeks,  his  lips,  his  heart.  It  was  indeed  the 
tinkle  of  her  jewels  that  he  heard  in  his  ear,  and 
felt  their  sweet  touch  upon  his  bosom. 

"  Come,  my  love — come  away ! "  In  that 
moment  it  was  she  that  spoke  first.  Of  the  two 
her  strength  was  the  greater. 

But  he  only  shook  his  head,  still  holding  the 
post. 

"Why,  beloved?" 

285 


Something  laid  hands  of  ice  upon  her  heart. 
She  saw  the  vacant  glassy  stare  in  his  eyes — 
and  felt  a  constriction  at  her  heart,  staying  its 
beat.  Were  his  senses  gone  for  ever?  In  that 
cruel  agony  had  he  lost  his  reason? 

"  Because  of  the  beast,  my  love !  " 

But  like  a  sleepy  child  he  laid  his  head  upon 
his  arm,  seeking  rest. 

Then  she  came  to  his  side  and  entwined  her 
arms  around  him.  She  dared  not  look  beside 
her;  for  beside  her  the  jaws  of  the  tigress  were 
hungering  for  their  prey.  From  before  the  face 
of  death  she  snatchced  away  her  beloved. 

"  Canst  walk,  my  heart  ?  "  She  entwined  one 
arm  around  his  waist,  and  placed  his  head  upon 
her  shoulder  with  the  other.  Thus  holding  him 
to  her,  she  snatched  him  from  the  jaws  of 
death. 

"Where  goest,  beloved?    I  am  so  tired." 

He  stopped  half-way  to  the  wall,  and  leaned 
upon  her  breast.  And  what  mattered  had  he 
reached  the  wall  itself?  He  could  not  escape. 

Then  sighing  helplessly,  her  own  strength 
286 


; 

•rr 


SHE  CUT  FRANTICALLY  AT  THE  CORDS  THAT 
BOUND  NARAYAN  LAL  " 


GUje    Ber&irt    of    1 1)  e    <g  0  i  s 

gave  way.  Slowly  they  bent  and  bent,  clinging 
to  each  other — then  suddenly  sank  upon  their 
knees,  upon  the  sand.  She  laid  his  head  upon 
her  breast,  rocking  him  there  and  speaking 
words  that  were  foolish  and  senseless.  Her  eyes 
glistened  but  refused  to  weep. 

She  heard  a  sound  that  come  to  her  as  the 
sentence  of  death.  It  was  a  roar  of  pain  and 
rage  that  suddenly  seemed  to  swell  into  a  roar 
of  triumph.  She  also  heard  another  sound  that 
arose  before  her,  behind  her,  all  around  her — a 
confused  sound  of  eight  myriad  men  that  hav- 
ing lost  their  tongues  had  found  them  in  the 
same  moment 

"  To  the  rescue,  O  brothers !  To  the  rescue ! " 
"  Ye  fools — ye  cowards — come ! " 
"  See !     Half  the  beast  is  out  of  the  cage ! " 
"  Art  afraid  of  a  beast  when  a  woman  dies  ?  " 
"Throw  him  a  sword — a  lance!" 
"  Him,  ye  fools  ?    Her.    Can  ye  not  see  he  has 
swooned?" 

"  To  the  rescue !    To  the  rescue ! " 
"Harr!    Harr!    Mahadeo!" 
287 


2FIf?    H  ?  r  &  i*r  t    0  f    1 1;  ?    <£  0  &  a 

"Jo*/      Jflt/     Kali  Mai!" 

"  To  the  Princess.    To  the  Princess ! " 

A  thousand  swords  leapt  in  the  air.  A  thou- 
sand men  rushed  to  the  parapet.  A  thousand 
men  stood  upon  it,  taking  breath  to  hurl  them- 
selves upon  the  sand 

"  Stay !  Let  no  man  move — at  the  peril  of 
his  life!" 

It  was  a  deep  hollow  voice  that  checked  them 
all. 

Tall,  towering,  pale  and  emaciated,  the  king 
stood  before  the  throne.  In  his  eyes  there  shone 
a  strange  unearthly  light;  his  breast  heaved 
with  some  nameless  emotion  that  struggled 
within  and  refused  to  be  stifled. 

"Let  this  be  Tier  trial  also.  It  were  but  a 
choice  of  death.  Let  no  man  move ! " 

Then  a  great  fear  came  upon  them  all ;  for  in 
that  moment  they  realised  for  the  first  time  that 
indeed  the  princess  also  was  upon  her  trial ;  that 
at  best  it  was  but  a  choice  of  death  between  the 
beast — and  the  dagger,  the  cup,  or  the  silken 
cord. 

288 


©1}?    lerfciri    0      tlf*    <gu&0 

"Let  it  be  the  beast — if  Parar'eshwar  so 
decrees."  And  sitting  down  upon  the  throne 
the  king  stared  before  him,  seeing  and  not 
seeing;  like  one  that  was  stricken  with  sudden 
blindness. 

And  now  with  a  frantic  roar — and  a  crash 
and  a  snap — the  tigress  cleared  the  cage.  She 
fell  upon  the  sand  to  the  left  of  the  stake,  gazed 
upon  the  multitude  straight  before  her,  blinked 
and  glared  at  the  setting  sun.  Conscious  only 
of  the  sensation  of  the  moment,  the  first  sense 
that  came  to  her  was  the  sense  of  liberty.  The 
sight  of  many  men  was  not  altogether  new  to 
her ;  the  sense  of  liberty  was. 

She  leaped  and  gambolled,  curving  and  then 
straightening  out  her  limbs  like  steel  springs, 
and  throwing  off  the  sand  from  beneath  her 
velvet  paws  in  a  shower  around  her.  She 
rejoiced  in  her  new-found  freedom.  She  had 
forgotten  her  victims. 

Then  suddenly  she  espied  them;  being 
towards  the  side  and  thirty  cubits  away,  they 
had  escaped  her  notice  so  far.  But  now  she  saw 
289 


©If*    Vtrftirt    0f    tlfe    (Snfca 

them — and  in  a  moment  her  nature  changed.  A 
cruel  look  came  into  her  eyes — the  look  of  a  wild 
beast  sighting  its  prey.  Her  back  arched  up 
behind  her,  and  her  forepaws  met  before  her. 
Her  tail  swung  to  the  right,  to  the  left,  then 
straightened  out  behind.  From  that  dis- 
tance she  prepared  to  leap.  And  then — and 
then 

"  Come,  my  heart,  awaken !  The  hour  is  at 
hand."  It  was  the  voice  of  the  maiden  calling 
her  beloved.  At  that  supreme  moment  her 
strength  came  back  to  her. 

What  mattered  it  to  her  now  that  her  dream 
was  ended?  For  six  long  months  she  too 
had  struggled — struggled  silently,  voicelessly, 
unseen  by  men.  Her  beloved  had  struggled 
before  a  king  and  a  nation.  She  had  fought 
silently  within  stone  walls. 

And  now  the  end  had  come;  the  end  of  all 
her  hopes,  her  prayers,  her  tears.  She  was  no 
longer  a  princess ;  rather  a  simple  maiden  that 
had  loved  truly,  and  for  her  love  was  about  to 
die. 

290 


®fj*    Uerbtri    of    l\\*    (Sxiha 

"  Beloved,  awaken !  Canst  not  hear  me?  The 
beast  is  upon  us!"  Her  heart  went  out  in 
that  cry. 

And  hearing  that  cry,  her  beloved  awakened. 
He  raised  his  head  from  her  lap  where  it  had 
lain  in  his  swoon ;  and  gazed  before  him.  Then 
light  came  back  to  his  soul.  Then  also  his 
strength  was  given  back  to  him.  .  .  . 

And  now  they  knelt  upon  the  sand,  hand  in 
hand.  From  that  distance  they  seemed  not  like 
a  youth  and  a  maiden;  rather  like  two  little 
children  that  were  lost  and  had  none  to  claim 
them.  They  faced  the  beast,  and  knelt  down 
side  by  side,  resting  upon  their  heels  and  bow- 
ing their  heads. 

And  never  a  word  escaped  their  lips.  What 
was  in  their  hearts  none  could  tell ;  holding  each 
other  by  the  hand — seeing  death  together  face 
to  face — seeking  to  mingle  their  life-blood 
together  in  their  dying  moment — what  was  in 
their  hearts  none  could  tell.  Perchance  it  was 
a  hymn  of  joy.  What  finer  death  could  they 
have  than  that? 

Ml 


®I;e    Her&trt    nf    itf*    (Sails 

The  tigress  leapt.  Up,  up  in  the  air — then 
down  in  a  fearful  curve.  With  a  soft  thud  she 
fell  upon  the  sand,  and  gathered  herself  up  for 
the  last  spring.  Full  half  the  distance  she  had 
spanned  in  that  single  leap. 

"Beloved,  art  afraid  of  death?" 

"Not  with  thee,  dearest.  Let  this  be  my — 
suttee" 

And  then  the  maiden  broke  down  utterly, 
belying  her  brave  words.  She  that  had  held  up 
her  courage  whilst  he  lay  swooning  in  her  arms, 
broke  into  sobs  and  tears  when  he  had  regained 
his  manhood.  For  now  that  he  was  a  man,  she 
herself  had  become  a  woman. 

"  Close  thine  eyes,  beloved ;  the  tigress 
leaps ! "  And  saying  this,  he  calmly  arose  to 
place  himself  before  the  maiden. 

But  she  checked  him  with  a  hand,  seeking  to 
die  together,  not  after  him.  "It  will  not  be 
long,  dearest.  Even  now  it  comes !  .  .  .  " 

And  even  in  that  moment  a  cry  of  wonder 
broke  from  the  multitude. 

"  Look,  O  brothers  !    The  beast  is  mad ! " 


" Has  lost  her  senses." 

" Her  strength!  " 

For  suddenly  the  tigress  had  changed  her 
purpose.  Relaxing  her  arched  back  from  its 
rigid  tension,  she  lurched  sideways  and  came 
circling  round  them. 

"  She  only  plays  with  them  like  a  cat " 

"  And  will  kill  them  like  a  mouse." 

"  But  see  again,  O  brothers.  She  cannot 
leap!" 

For  stopping  suddenly,  she  crouched  before 
them,  lashed  her  tail  from  side  to  side  in  rising 
fury — then  as  suddenly  swerved  round  and  con- 
tinued in  her  course.  And  all  the  while  the 
youth  and  the  maiden  knelt  upon  the  sand,  hand 
in  hand. 

"Ho!  The  beast  is  blind!  She  does  not  see 
them!" 

For  now  the  tigress  paused  before  them,  not 
six  cubits  away,  and  gazed  above  their  heads. 
Out  in  the  far  distance  the  sun  was  sinking  upon 
a  bank  of  cloud  in  a  ball  of  fire.  And  the  poor 
mad  beast  that  had  killed  her  own  progeny, 
293 


2IIl?    Ueriirt    nf    llf?    (6060 

gazed  upon  the  sinking  sun — and  forgot  her 
victims. 

Perchance  in  that  moment  some  dumb  instinct 
awakened  to  life  within  her;  some  instinct  that 
had  long  lain  dormant ;  some  instinct  finer  than 
the  instinct  of  ferocity  and  bloodshed. 

Perchance  the  remembrance  came  back  to  her 
of  the  days  of  freedom  and  happiness  in  the 
jungle — for  even  beasts  have  moments  of  happi- 
ness— when  hungering  herself,  she  had  given  her 
breast  to  her  free-born  cubs  at  the  hour  of  sun- 
set. For  verily,  gazing  upon  the  setting  sun, 
had  she  eaten  a  ball  of  sand  in  her  hunger1 — 
and  had  fed  her  cubs  with  the  milk  of  her 
breast. 

Lowering  her  eyes  from  the  sun,  she  saw  the 
kneeling  forms  before  her,  even  at  her  feet ;  saw 
their  bowed  heads  that  now  lay  together,  bent 
low  upon  the  sand.  Then  something  burst  in 
her  mighty  heart,  and  gurgled  up  through  her 
throat.  It  was  a  piteous  whine  of  incontrollable 
pain  and  anguish. 

*A  popular  belief  in  India. 
294 


®lH>    Uerfciri    nf   tlje    (Softs 

Then  she  licked  their  faces,  their  hands,  their 
feet,  and  burrowed  in  the  sand  before  them,  try- 
ing to  lift  them  to  her  bosom. 

"  See,  he  has  charmed  the  beast ! "  It  was  an 
awe-stricken  voice  from  the  lowermost  tier. 

"  No !     She  takes  them  for  her  cubs." 

"  Wrong  again.  It  is  the  soul  of  the  pahari 
woman  that  has  entered  into  the  tigress." 

The  someone  added :  "  Verily,  the  soul  of  the 
woman  that  had  lost  her  son  on  his  wedding-day, 
and  having  died  herself,  had  sworn  to  return." 

"  And  the  maiden  is  his  bride." 

Then,  seeing  this  marvel,  however  it  might 
have  been  caused,  a  great  stillness  fell  over  them 
all.  They  clutched  at  their  beating  hearts,  and 
forgot  to  breathe. 

Hark!  What  was  that?  A  dull  thud,  a  dis- 
tant shriek ;  the  clanging  and  rattling  of  chains. 
The  sound  came  from  afar,  from  somewhere 
beyond  the  arena.  The  dense  multitude  sat 
impotent  and  still,  scarce  realising  its  import. 

Suddenly  a  man,  sitting  beneath  the  royal 
dais,  arose  from  his  seat.  Ere  the  multitude 
295 


understood  his  purpose,  he  gained  the  wall  and 
leapt  into  the  arena.  Arising  from  the  fall,  he 
ran  swiftly  forward,  drawing  his  sword  as  he 
went. 

"  At  last  I  have  reached  thee !    Die,  traitor ! " 

He  thrust  with  his  blade — but  a  moment 
sooner  Narayan  Lai  had  leapt  to  his  feet.  Lift- 
ing the  maiden  in  his  arms,  he  sprang  to  the 
other  side  of  the  reclining  tigress. 

Thus  the  two  men  faced  each  other  a  moment 
— across  the  beast.  Though  he  recognised  his 
assailant,  Narayan  Lai  knew  not  why  he  sought 
his  life,  even  at  the  peril  of  his  own.  Perchance 
the  assailant's  own  life  was  doomed,  unless  he 
slew  Narayan  Lai;  thus  his  purpose  was  to  kill 
the  youth,  and  take  the  chance  of  escaping  the 
tigress  and  the  multitude  afterwards.  All  this 
passed  through  Narayan's  mind  in  the  instant's 
flash. 

Hearing  the  sound  of  words,  the  reclining 

tigress  gazed  up  from  the  sand  and  saw  the 

intruder.    Vaguely  she  seemed  to  realise  that  she 

had  found  her  cubs  already;  and  this  was  not 

296 


one  of  them.  She  raised  herself  upon  her  fore- 
paws  and  stretched  forth  her  head 

A  confused  clamour,  a  roar  of  voices,  the 
crash  of  falling  metal.  The  iron-barred  gate 
beneath  the  archway  came  clanging  down  as  if 
uprooted  by  some  ponderous  battering-ram.  An 
ominous  snorting,  trumpeting,  like  the  blast  of 
a  cracked  horn — and  a  huge  elephant  burst  into 
the  arena. 

The  spell  was  broken.  The  multitude  that 
had  sat  still  like  dazed  children,  broke  forth  in 
a  babel  of  words. 

"  The  high  executioner ! " 

"  The  inflicter  of  death  on  traitors ! " 

"  But  see,  it  is  in  musth!  " 

Then  in  new  terror  they  saw  that  the  beast 
had  broken  loose  from  its  heel-chains;  and  its 
mahout  was  not  upon  its  head.  Perhaps  his 
mangled  body  was  lying  in  yonder  courtyard. 
For  a  male  elephant  in  musth  is  worse  than  a 
raging  tigress.  Naught  may  appease  its 
frenzy,  save  to  kill  and  kill  and  kill. 

O  Bhugwan,  what  marvellous  sight  was  this! 
297 


©If*    lerbtrt    0f    t\\*    (60ba 

With  the  instinct  of  her  nature  the  tigress 
recognised  her  hereditary  foe  of  the  jungle. 
Her  back  arched  up  on  the  instant,  her  limbs 
became  like  tense  steel.  She  forgot  the  human 
intruder  and  faced  the  mad  elephant.  On  her 
other  side  were  her  new-found  cubs. 

And  at  sight  of  the  elephant,  the  inflicter  of 
death  on  traitors,  a  sudden  panic  seized  the 
intruder's  heart.  Narayan  Lai's  assailant  fled 
before  the  wind,  and  sought  shelter  behind  the 
bamboo  cage. 

The  elephant  came  hurtling  along,  digging 
up  the  sand  with  its  tusks.  Reeling  drunkenly, 
blinking  its  little  red  eyes  in  the  sudden  glare,  it 
saw  nothing;  its  vengeance  was  for  the  sand. 
Thus  it  went  headlong  to  the  centre  of  the  area 
— and  lurched  up  against  the  bamboo  cage ;  the 
first  definite  object  it  had  noticed. 

For  one  brief  moment  it  paused.  The  little 
tail  switched;  the  huge  trunk  curled  upwards; 
the  drooping  ears  flapped  up  like  a  pair  of  wings 
— then  in  mad  frenzy  the  elephant  charged. 

With  a  groan  and  a  crash  the  cage  went  over 
298 


®lf?    U*r&tri    nf    itf*    <80&a 

bodily.  From  beneath  the  falling  bamboo  the 
man  escaped  and  fled  terror-stricken  to  the 
side  of  the  arena — the  elephant  in  full  chase 
behind. 

Full  half  the  circumference  he  ran;  then  the 
outstretched  trunk,  gaining  upon  him  at  each 
stride,  caught  him  up  by  the  middle — swung 
him  aloft  an  instant,  then  hurled  him  to  the 
ground.  The  next  instant  the  huge  forepaw 
reached  him — half  buried  him  in  the  sand  by  the 
stupendous  pressure.  A  traitor's  death! 

The  elephant  stepped  back,  gazed  down  an 
instant,  and  grunted  in  approval  of  its  work. 
Three  strides  more,  kicking  the  sand  in  wanton 
sport,  and  the  mad  beast  had  come  within  range 
of  its  unnoticed  foe. 

An  angry  growl,  a  hissing  snarl,  a  terrific 
roar — the  tigress  hurled  herself  through  the  air. 
With  a  sudden  lurch  the  elephant  recoiled  upon 
its  haunches;  with  the  moment's  instinct  its 
trunk  went  up,  slashing  frantically  at  the  huge 
yellow  form  soaring  aloft  to  its  head.  But  the 
tigress  came  aslant;  the  elephant's  trunk  just 
299 


Sflf?    Her  btri    0f    ilj*    (gn&a 

flicked  her  flank.  She  passed  beyond  the  head, 
and  fell  upon  the  sand  on  the  other  side.  More 
nimble  than  her  unwieldly  foe,  and  turning  more 
quickly,  she  leapt  again  at  short  range  and 
gained  the  elephant's  back,  its  head.  There  she 
fastened  her  fangs  with  the  grip  of  death.  Her 
forepaws  came  down  on  either  side  of  her  jaws, 
tore  at  the  thick  hide,  seeking  to  reach  the 
brain. 

In  mad  terror  the  elephant  ran,  trumpeting 
shrilly,  bearing  the  tigress  upon  its  head.  Thrice 
round  the  circumference  it  careered  in  its 
frenzy,  its  life-blood  oozing  from  the  wound  in 
its  head.  Deeper  and  deeper  sank  the  tigress's 
fangs  and  claws.  The  mad  beast's  trumpetings 
grew  feebler  and  feebler;  for  its  strength, 
mighty  and  irresistible  a  while  ago,  was  now 
ebbing  fast.  Its  foe  had  gripped  it  in  its  one 
vital  part. 

Suddenly  its  knees  gave  way,  the  trumpeting 
ceased.  Slowly,  inch  by  inch,  it  began  to  sink 
upon  the  sand.  Its  huge  body  shook  in  a  gigan- 
tic tremor,  then  came  down  inch  by  inch  upon 
300 


©I;?    Berfcirt    af    ilf*    (Soba 

its  bended  knees.  O  Parameshwar,  verily  this 
was  Thy  deed,  this  sight  of  Thy  creation!  A 
mighty  fine-tusked  elephant,  the  monarch  of  the 
jungle  and  the  lord  of  the  battle-line,  dying 
slowly,  drop  by  drop,  in  silent  majesty  before 
the  gaze  of  twice  forty-thousand  men  struck 
dumb  in  speechless  wonder !  Verily  this  was  Thy 
verdict,  Thy  manifestation,  in  Thy  inscrutable 
wisdom!  .  .  . 

With  the  sweat  of  death  upon  its  brow,  the 
elephant  made  its  last  frantic  effort.  Endowed 
with  an  intelligence  second  only  to  man's,  that 
intelligence  had  been  obscured  in  the  moment  of 
panic.  Now  in  the  moment  of  death  it  returned 
with  tenfold  clearness.  With  its  last  ebbing 
strength  the  elephant  curled  up  its  trunk,  felt 
softly  beneath  the  tigress's  throat  with  the  deli- 
cacy of  a  man's  finger — curled  the  trunk  around 
the  tigress's  neck — tore  her  bodily  away  from 
its  head,  held  her  aloft  an  instant,  brought  her 
down  before  its  bended  knees.  There  the  two 
swayed  a  moment  in  the  air  in  the  elephant's  last 
spasmodic  tremor.  Then  the  trunk  touched  the 
201 


Slf?    Verftirt    of    tlj?    (Softs 

sand,  the  huge  beast  bent  slowly  forward — and 
fell  prone  upon  the  arena,  upon  the  tigress. 
Thus  locked  in  death  together  the  two  monarchs 
of  the  jungle  lay  silent  and  still  before  the  gaze 
of  man. 

But,  O  Parameshwar,  Thy  manifestation  was 
not  yet  over!  There  still  remained  the  youth 
and  the  maiden  in  the  arena.  Locked  in  each 
other's  arms,  upon  bended  knees,  they  still 
awaited  Thy  verdict.  What  though  the  youth's 
last  trial  was  over,  his  innocence  proved?  Verily 
he  still  awaited  Thy  fullest  proclamation,  O 
Parameshwar!  .  .  . 

Then  suddenly  amid  the  hushed  silence  a  deep 
guttural  voice  shouted  across  the  amphitheatre : 

"  Jail  Jail    Pertab  Sinhji !  " 

The  multitude  gazed  upon  one  another's 
faces,  and  wondered  what  this  could  mean. 

"  Jail  Jail  Raj  Kumar  ke  jai!  Shout,  ye 
men — shout  to  the  heavens ! " 

There,  across  the  amphitheatre,  stood  a  man 
upon  the  lowermost  tier,  leaning  against  the 
parapet  and  pointing  a  thin  fleshless  hand  at 
202 


®Iy*    Vtrftirt    af    ilf?    (gnfta 

the  youth  in  the  arena.  He  was  robed  in  a 
choga  of  embroidered  gold,  and  wore  a  turban 
of  the  richest  silk.  But  upon  his  brow  there 
was  written  still  in  vermilion  the  broad  trident 
of  Vishnu.  Then  all  knew  him  to  be  the  pundit, 
the  sage — him  they  had  long  known  as  Rama 
Krishna.  Now  a  pundit  no  more,  but  the  com- 
mander of  many  men. 

"  Shout,  ye  men !  Shout  Victory  to  the 
Royal  Prince ! " 

Then  that  vast  multitude  lost  their  heads 
and  shouted — they  knew  not  why.  Twice  forty 
thousand  men  shouted  to  the  mountains,  the 
plains,  the  fields,  the  forests,  the  rivers,  the  val- 
leys, even  unto  the  clouds  above. 

"  Jail     Jail     Raj  Kumar  ke  jail  " 

As  one  in  a  dream,  the  king  gazed  before  him. 
What  cry  was  this — "  Jail  Jail  "  To  whom 
did  they  give  that  salutation  that  among  mor- 
tals could  only  be  given  to  a  monarch  upon  his 
throne  ? 

The  cry  of  the  multitude  answered  him.  A 
hundred  men  leapt  to  the  arena,  and  escorted 
303 


®lf*    Kerfcirt    nf    tlf*    (go&a 

the  youth  and  the  maiden  to  the  dais  above. 
There,  awaking  from  his  dream,  the  king  placed 
them  upon  the  divan  beside  his  throne.  And 
placing  a  bridal  veil  over  the  maiden's  head,  and 
nine  rows  of  pearls  around  her  neck — the  self- 
same necklace  that  Hira  Lai  of  Benares  had 
given  him,  to  be  kept  for  the  maiden's  bridal 
day — he  joined  her  hand  to  that  of  the  youth. 

Then  Rama  Krishna,  standing  up  before  the 
king,  told  a  wondrous  tale:  How  once  a  noble 
queen  had  placed  her  new-born  infant  upon  his 
dead  father's  throne ;  and  commanded  all  to  do 
him  homage;  but  that  being  vanquished  by  an 
upstart  usurper  who  sought  the  life  of  the  child, 
she  had  entrusted  him  to  the  sacred  Ganges 
— and  had  made  suttee  of  herself  to  join  her 
dead  husband. 

"  But  who  art  thou,  O  pundit,  that  thou  dost 
know  these  things?" 

And  Rama  Krishna  answered  the  king,  "  The 
Dewan    (Prime  Minister)    of   the   child's   dead 
father.    I  took  up  the  beggar's  gourd,  to  watch 
over  the  life  of  the  child." 
304 


SJlje    B*rbirt    of    tlj?    (Softa 

"And  the  man  killed  by  the  elephant,  the 
inflicter  of  death  upon  traitors  ?  "  the  king  asked 
again. 

Rama  Krishna  waved  his  hand,  and  a  dozen 
men  fetched  the  body  from  the  arena  and 
exposed  the  face.  It  was  the  Jemadar  of  the 
Palace ! 

"  A  double-dyed  traitor,  a  spy  in  disguise 
within  thy  very  palace — a  secret  emissary  of 
the  upstart  usurper.  He  had  risen  to  power 
in  thy  service,  being  sent  by  his  master  to 
slay  the  child  secretly — or  lose  his  own  life. 
But  the  child  escaped  him  by  the  decree  of 
Fate. 

"And  now,  O  King,"  Rama  Krishna  said 
again,  joining  his  hands  to  his  brow,  and  bow- 
ing his  head  even  to  the  feet  of  the  youth,  "  the 
child  has  grown  to  be  a  man — the  same  that 
thou  hast  long  known  as  Narayan  Lai." 

And  the  king  proclaimed  to  the  world,  "  Yea, 

Narayan  Lai  no  more,  but  Pertab  Sinhji  for 

ever — by   the   right   of  his   forefathers.      And 

henceforth,    by    the    right    of    my    adoption, 

305 


SI;?    TSerhirt    nf    ttje    <S0&0 

Yuvoraj  Kumar  Prithiraj  " — that  is,  Young 
King,  Royal  Prince,  Son  of  Supreme  King. 

Then  a  veiled  form  came  from  the  back  of  the 
divan  and  knelt  at  the  feet  of  the  Princess 
Devala.  And  the  princes  turned  to  her  father 
and  whispered  into  his  ear. 

The  king  waved  his  hand  graciously,  and 
Harnam  Das,  the  Captain  of  the  Guards, 
approached  from  the  other  side  and  knelt  at  his 
master's  feet.  The  king  joined  his  hand  to 
Leila's,  and  the  princess  took  from  her  bosom 
a  row  of  diamonds  and  as  a  bridal  dower  clasped 
it  upon  that  of  the  maiden  who  had  served  her 
so  faithfully — whilst  the  multitude  shouted  to 
the  heavens  anew,  and  went  forth  to  hold  high 
carouse  faf  into  the  night  with  palace  bounty 
that  was  showered  upon  them  so  lavishly  because 
of  the  double  bridal. 


306 


"  THUS  endeth  my  tale,  O  Splendour  of  the 
Earth!"  the  Story-teller  concluded,  kissing  the 
fringe  of  the  silken  sheet. 

And  the  Great  King,  raising  himself  from 
his  pillow,  replied,  "  So  also  my  sickness ;  for 
thy  words  of  wisdom  have  taught  me  that  a 
man  may  be  in  the  grip  of  death,  and  may  yet 
escape." 

Then  taking  the  pearls  from  around  his  neck, 
even  according  to  his  promise,  he  placed  them 
himself  upon  the  neck  of  the  Story-teller. 

And  to  me,  his  faithful  chronicler,  he  turned 
and  said,  "  And  thou,  O  truthful  recorder  of 
many  marvels,  go  forth  into  the  world,  and 
make  known  these  things  unto  all  men." 

Thus,  O  best  beloved  readers,  have  I  unto  you. 
And  some  day  perchance  I  shall  return  to  the 
favour  of  your  countenance  and  tell  you  many 
more  marvels,  O  best  beloved.  Meanwhile, 
salaam  alikhum! — peace  be  with  you! 
307 


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